You've Been Gone for So Long
by MaydoMia
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a doctor at a mental hospital/rehab center. The twist? He's a drug addict himself. Alfred Jones is a wreck that needs serious help. The catch? He knows Arthur.What happens when these two cross paths? Will their old wounds be patched up?
1. The Life of Dr Kirkland

**A/N- **So, this was suppose to be a one shot, but it got too long, and then I got a full plot and stuff. So now it's in chapters for your enjoyment ^.^ Yes, I used a rap song as reference. And I had a picture for reference as well. (PM me if you wanna see the picture BTW ;) Okay! Well, this is based on the show House M.D. Like a lot. So yeah, I got a bit uncreative here and there, but whatever ^^ Okay, I'm gonna stop talking now!

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT Own Hetalia.**

Enjoy loves~!

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**You've Been Gone For So Long**

_**"I'm about to lose my mind. You've been gone for so long. I'm running out of time. I need a doctor, call me a doctor, I need a doctor, doctor to bring me back to life…"**_

_** -I Need a Doctor, Eminem, and Skylar Grey**_

_**Chapter 1**_

_"Arthur! Arthur, I'm really sorry. I-I didn't mean to go that far. Oh gosh, Arthur! Say something! ARTHUR!"_

Those green eyes opened with a start. The shadowy ceiling of his apartment confirmed that it was only a dream, that he was back in reality. His breathing was erratic, he was shaking, and a cold sweat was forming on his body. Arthur Kirkland sat up in his bed, nervously scanning the room. His fists were balled up, the bedsheets in his grip. He bit his bottom lip as he tried to get that voice out of his head. The remnants of his nightmare were still ringing in the back of his head. _That French accent… The panicky tone of his voice… The events of that night…._

Arthur received another shock as his alarm went off. He instinctively slammed the snooze button, but suddenly froze. He hated to admit it, but he was scared to get out of bed. He didn't want to face the pain today. Not after that dream…

His heart still racing, Arthur longingly looked at his nightstand. To his relief, his small prescription bottle was there, his Vicodin pills filling up the transparent container. Not hesitating one bit, the Briton reached out for it, twisting the cap off. Tapping the bottle against his palm, he allowed the pills to fall out. Without any caution, he popped the pills into his mouth, allowing the smooth, curved pills to go down his throat. Closing his eyes, Arthur savored the moment. He immediately felt relief wash through him, his nerves calmed, and his pain almost washed away completely…Almost.

Now that his morning pills were in his system, Arthur stretched out his tired muscles and cautiously pulled his bad leg out from underneath the covers. His good leg following behind, Arthur carefully got out of bed, reaching for the night stand for support. Standing still for a few moments to regain balance, Arthur quietly suffered through the surging pain that was in his right hip and leg. _Just a few more minutes until the Vicodin kicks in…Just a few more minutes…_

As the pain slowly began to numb itself, Arthur stiffly stood up straight. He was still a bit rusty, but he could manage through for a bit. He just needed to get ready for work. Staggered steps after another, Arthur made his way to his bathroom. His cane leaned against the doorframe, waiting for its owner to put it into use. Arthur stared at the sleek wooden stick. _Not yet…I need to learn how to live without it._ he stubbornly thought.

After his morning routine was completed, Arthur got dressed. Neatly tying his tie, Arthur strolled over to his rolling chair in his room. Folded over the backrest of the chair was his white coat. Putting the signature uniform of a doctor on, Arthur was ready to leave. Grabbing his bags, keys, and (after a long internal conflict) his cane, Arthur was out the door.

...

"Ah, you're certainly in early today, Dr. Kirkland." the always cheery Feliciano Vargas greeted. "Well, when you live practically 5 minutes away from your job, it's kind of hard to be late." Arthur objected. "Oh, heh, that's true I guess. Well, you have only a handful of new patients today. You have a therapy session scheduled though, so you might want to start with that first." the Italian nurse advised. Arthur merely nodded and took his clipboard from the hook. Without another glance at Feliciano, Arthur made his way to his office.

Working in a mental hospital can only be so interesting. Sure, there were random outbreaks between the patients and other chaotic trouble, but there wasn't anything new. Even though the hospital included a rehabilitation center, there wasn't anything actually exciting to look forward to. Not through Arthur's eyes at least. It was a monotonous life. Then again, it was kind of hard to enjoy life when you have a constant nagging pain in your body. A pain that drowned out practically everything. He became pretty anti-social, and a low tolerance level doesn't really help either. Maybe a dull life was for the best?

Sighing, Arthur pulled out his keys and unlocked his office. Stepping into the familiar room, he dropped everything and headed straight to his computer. Turning the machine on, Arthur sat down in his chair and opened up the file of today's patients. A finger running across his lower lip, the English doctor skimmed the page. _Another usual day I suppo- Hang on a minute. _Sitting up straight, Arthur took a closer look at the file. Shaking his head in disbelief, Arthur reached out for his glasses. After he put on his glasses, Dr. Kirkland took another look at the file. Even when he was half blind, he read that name correctly: Alfred F. Jones.

Pursing his lips slightly, Arthur threw the file down onto his desk, his glasses hitting the desk soon after. He leaned back in the chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Today is just not my day..._

Staring at the ceiling, Arthur thought about things more carefully. _Let's not jump to conclusions now, Arthur. Jones is a pretty common last name here in America. Alfred isn't all too uncommon. Now, that F initial is pretty uncommon, but it's probably a fluke. There's no way it's him. No way._

The uncomfortable feeling he had earlier was starting to vanish. _And besides. It's been over ten years. There's no was he still remembers me…_

The Briton's thought process was interrupted by a beeping noise from his pager. Reverting his eyes back to the desk, he leaned forward and grabbed the beeping device. A slight frown overtook lips.

_Therapy Session _the device blinked. Sighing yet again, Arthur clipped the beeper to his side, grabbed the patient file, and walked out of his office.

_Another session…Let's see how this one turns out._

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**A/N- **Short, yes. But I wanna break it down into readable pieces so I don't drag this out to be a one shot with a bajillions words X) Anywho, what do you guys think? Pretty good so far? Review and tell me how I'm doing~! :D Oh! And Ive written a few more stories, so don't forget to check those out as well. On the Run is still being written, and I just finished testing (for now =.=) so I'll start writing that again as soon as possible. Oh yeah, and if you think the rating should be bumped up later on in the series, don't be afraid to tell me okay? I'll do it. I jus thought it would fit T since it's not going to be that mature. Okay, I'm done for now. I'm gonna go post the next part up. Thanks for reading! :D


	2. Meeting Alfred Jones

**A/N- **So, if you couldn't tell already, I've already written the next chapter. Like I said, it was originally a one shot, but I decided to split it up into chapters. So the first four chapters are dont for you already. (Yay no waiting!) But after that, the fun ends for a while. Until I write more that is. Anywho, here's the second chapter ^^_  
_

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia~!**

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_**Chapter 2**_

_Oh great, the OCD one's here_ Dr. Kirkland thought to himself, glancing over at the blonde German that he was sharing the elevator with. Another one of the nurses, Ludwig Beilschmidt was rather harsh to the patients when it comes to "perfect order" and "balance". He preferred to stay in the office where all he had to do was organize the files, but sometimes, his job required him to leave his OCD haven and break up fights that his Schizophrenic brother, Gilbert, tend to start. Arthur softly scoffed to himself. _ No one can be _that _perfect. Why doesn't the git get that? _he thought to himself, absentmindedly picking at his his nails.

The movement was noticed by the German. "Ah, Dr. Kirkland. How was your morning?" Ludwig asked, closing up the patient file in his hand. "Fine. Did you clean your brother's room again today?" Arthur asked, a minor teasing note in his voice. Ludwig stiffened and looked down at the ground. "N-No. I didn't. Do I really do it that often?" he asked, somewhat embarrassed. Arthur chuckled. "Often? You always fix something every time you're in his room. Now, whether that's conscious or not is beyond me, but yes. You do it _very_ often." Dr. Kirkland replied, leaning up against the railing inside the elevator. Ludwig awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh. I didn't realize that…"

The brief stop from the elevator made both of them look up. The flashing number 5 was it up in red LEDs. Ludwig practically sighed a breath of relief. Looking over at Arthur, the German unenthusiastically nodded in dismissal. "Well, I guess I'll see you later, Doctor." And with that, he turned around and walked out of the elevator. As the metal doors closed, Dr. Kirkland could see the blonde make his way over to an overly happy Italian. The Briton rolled his eyes. _Romances at work suck…_ he concluded bluntly, staring at the couple until the doors completely closed.

The ride to the 8th floor was unusually longer. Whether it was the fact that he was dreading the therapy with or the fact that he was extremely tired, Arthur was in a very sour mood. Then again, he was a;ways in a bitter mood. Anti-social, crabby, and constantly snarky, the Englishman was an unenjoyable smart mouth, but he was a complete _genius. _He earned respect even though he was a complete jerk. That's how he managed to keep this job for so long. If it wasn't for his brains, he would of been fired in a split second.

Th elevator made another sudden stop. The elevator doors slid open, and Dr. Kirkland stepped out. His tough exterior finally cracked, and he had to resort to his cane for assistance. There was definitely no way he would be able to survive an entire day without the aid.

Slowly limping to the therapy room down the hall, Arthur could feel that throbbing pain return. As he approached the wooden door, Arthur stopped and stuck his hand in his coat pocket. The plastic prescription bottle brushed underneath his fingertips. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _I really shouldn't…_

He felt the cap pop off. _Well, it's too late now_. Arthur found himself grinning as he pulled the container out from its hiding place. He completely removed the cap and tapped the container against the palm of his hand again, the pills flowing out. Popping the sweet pills into his mouth, the Briton felt a rush. _Well now that I feel better, let's see what's wrong with Jones…_

Twisting the silver doorknob and pushing the heavy door, Arthur entered the room. "Alright Mr. Jones, I hope you didn't have to wait too long. I'm terribly sorry if you did, not that I really care. I just have to say this because I'm forced to by my superior… Anywho, I'm Dr. Kirkland. Feel free to spill your secrets to me. Tell me anything you want. From your psychotic ex-girlfriend to your dog. I have all day, and it's not like I can tell anyone anyways." he droned, throwing the file onto the table in the center of the room and grabbing the nearest rolling chair. Arthur Kirkland may be a genius, but he was far from professional. He was still a little kid at heart. A bratty one, but still~

As he twirl the chair around and sat in it backwards, Arthur continued to rant. "Apparently, I'm suppose to be 'here for you'. but honestly I don't even give a…" he trailed off. For the first time, Arthur actually took a look at the man sitting across from him. For once, the sharp tongued Briton was speechless.

_He looks so…different…_

Directly across from him, a jittery man sat. Squirming around uncomfortably like a small ADHD child forced to sit still, Alfred F. Jones was definitely panicking on the inside. He bit his bottom lip as he nervously looked around in the dull room. There was no doubt that Alfred was silently wishing he could go home, and the twitches that occasionally occurred made it look like he was hiding something. A long list of possible diagnoses ran through Dr. Kirkland's head. One thing topped the list though. It was a just a hunch, but Alfred's early symptoms matched this perfectly: withdrawal.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair as he closely examined his patient's body language. His hands were clasped in his lap in an insecure manner, fingers idly twiddling. He was on the edge of his seat, jumpy and easily shocked by the slightest disruption. His eyes were glued to the floor, and from the looks of it, he was losing a lot of sleep. _Must be using coffee as a substitution_ Arthur thought. Arthur's shockingly green eyes lingered on Alfred's timid, glazed blue ones. _They've lost that childish glimmer in them…Pity. _Arthur continued to examine the patient in his mind.

His appearance was a dead give away as well. He seemed incapable of taking care of himself properly. He managed to get dressed, but the buttons on his shirt seemed to be uneven, and his shirt was messily untucked all around him. His hair was missing that signature side part he always had, but it still had that famous cowlick that he never figured out how to stick down. Arthur snickered to himself, thinking about how flustered others would get trying to slick that thing down. Alfred glanced up when he heard the laughter. Arthur immediately silenced himself, and looked away from the blue eyed American.

Staring at the back wall, Arthur's thoughts returned to the possible diagnosis. Withdrawal seemed like his best bet, but the withdrawal of what was the true mystery. _I guess I won't even find out unless I actually talk to him..._

He finally decided to not dwell on the mystery in silent for too long. The story was going to eventually flow out anyways.

Dr. Kirkland awkwardly coughed to break the pregnant silence. "I'm sorry. I lost my train of thought for a second." he apologized. Alfred managed to work up a weak smile. "Heh, n-no problem." he stuttered, pulling at a loose thread in his button down. The duo were looking at each other now. In the back of Arthur's mind, he was just waiting for Alfred to realize who he was talking to. He never did. Tapping on his clipboard, Arthur thought it was a miracle that Alfred hasn't recognized him. I mean, they did graduate from the same high school. They were even roommates for sometime. He honestly thought he had a slim chance of Alfred forgetting who he was. Maybe the universe doesn't hate him~

Another cough escaped the Englishman's throat. "Well, now that we got the introductions out of the way, let's get down to business shall we?" he asked, kicking at the floor, propelling himself forward. As he zoomed past the table, he grabbed the patient file again. _Maybe I should actually read this now instead of staring at the name…_ he thought. Alfred meekly nodded and watched as Arthur looked through his files. With a pen in his mouth, Arthur was actually intrigued.

_Bloody-! I hate to say it, but he's a total wreck. And I thought I was bad…_

The quietness was starting to get to the American. Twiddling your thumbs can only keep your mind off of things for so long. While Arthur was absorbed in the file, Alfred was secretly staring at his doctor. _He…looks familiar. _he thought. Shifting in his seat, Alfred mused on the observation. _I've seen him somewhere before. M-Maybe he gave me my- No, that doesn't fit. I wasn't even near here when I got my first dose… Oh, this is like deja vu. The name even sounds familiar. Who is he?_

"-phine addiction?" Alfred's mind finally tuned back to reality. "I-I'm sorry?" Arthur looked up from the manila folder in his hand. "It says here you've had a morphine addiction. How long ago was that?" he repeated. Alfred stiffened. _I didn't expect him to ask about that so soon…_

"W-Well, it's been going on for a while." he replied hesitantly. "Going on?" Arthur quoted. Alfred nodded. "Okay, well how long has this been going on then?" The baby- blue eyed American looked down. "A few years…" he answered, his voice low. "I see." Arthur scribbled down the reply on the margins of the patient records. _He didn't look like the type to turn to drugs for comfort when we were younger…Well then again, neither did I. I wonder what happened to him…_

The click of the pen signaled that it was time to move on. "Was there a certain reason why you turned to morphine?" he asked, getting to the nitty gritty. Again, Alfred hesitated to answer. A slight twitch occurred as he responded. "I-I don't really know. It…It just numbs out the feelings I guess. It's like…It's like I'm getting high almost, but it's much better than that." The corners of his mouth curved into a small grin. "It's much, much better." he repeated, staring off into the horribly painted walls.

The scratching of the pen returned. _Numbs out the feelings huh?_

"What kind of feelings does it numb out?" Arthur pressed. Alfred just shrugged. "Just feelings in generally I guess." he vaguely replied. "Can you describe it? At least try." Arthur urged. A soft sigh was heard from the opposite side of the room.

"I guess, it just wipes out my pain. Well, not necessarily pain, but the feelings that drag me down. It's hard to explain really, but…when I pop those pills or even inject the morphine in, I just feel lighter, like I'm on top of the world. It's a rush."

Whether he knew it or not, Alfred was being very open about this. He was getting more comfortable, and he was just talking to Arthur like they were old friends. Er, technically they were, but based on the way this was going, Alfred didn't seem to remember it.

The pen was furiously scratching notes. Alfred seemed to be smiling now, and his jitteriness has certainly died down. Arthur decided it was time to really take it up a notch. _If he thought these questions were uncomfortable, he has no idea…_

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_****_**A/N- **A slightly weird spot to end it, but the next chapter is going to be really long. You get to get a taste of Alfred's past. Review, Pm and tell me what you think! :D


	3. Confessions

**A/N- **I don't have anything else to say really :P

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia**

Enjoy~!

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_**Chapter 3**_

Shifting in his seat, Arthur cleared his throat. Sticking the pen behind his ear, Arthur looked up and made direct eye contact with Alfred. "Mr. Jones, why are you exactly here today?"

The sudden seriousness that was radiating off of Dr. Kirkland started to intimidate Alfred. The American's nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck returned. "What do you mean, Doctor?" he asked.

"I mean, you were obviously forced here by somebody. The moment I came in, you were more twitchy than a caffeine addict who missed their morning coffee. You didn't come here on your own will. And if you did, it was only after a string of arguments with someone. So, what are your secrets Mr. Jones?" Arthur bluntly asked. Alfred stared at the emerald-eyed Briton, jaw dropped for a moment. _He just read my mind…Oh man, what did I just walk in to?_

At this point, the American's eyes grew wide, and they were vainly searching for a possible answer in the room. "Mr. Jones?" The Briton's stern voice shattered the fragile silence that formed. Anxious blue met with intimidating green.

After swallowing his cowardliness, Alfred finally managed to regained control of his muscles to reply. "I-It's actually a long story."

"Go ahead and tell it. I have all day." _That wasn't exactly the answer I was hoping for…_ Alfred thought somberly.

"Um, where do you want me to start?" he asked.

The metallic tip of the pen brushed against Arthur's bottom lip as he thought about what would be the perfect place to start. "Hmm…You still look pretty younger. High school sound like a nice start?" he asked. Yes, Dr. Arthur Kirkland _was_ going to use this therapy session to find out what Alfred Jones did with his life. Besides, Arthur really wasn't in the mood to handle another patient with Tourette's, not after that last kid nearly caused him to not be able to have children. (_Next time, I'm wearing a cup…)_

Alfred stared at the carpet and thought about it. After a while he agreed. "A-Alright. I guess that's alright." Satisfied with the answer, Arthur weakly smiled and allowed Alfred to speak. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Jones."

Alfred hesitantly nodded and leaned back, the first sign of relaxation he had shown all morning. "I…I don't really remember everything, but I know I was happy. I was really happy and…normal." he admitted. "I was your normal, perky high school senior. I had everything in the world. I'm pretty sure I had a…significant other. I'm just a bit foggy on who it was. And the um-" Alfred uneasily coughed. "- the gender…Heh."

The American shyly glanced upwards, a sheepish grin on his face. Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Experimenting were we? That's a normal thing for teenagers and young adults. Don't feel too awkward. I've heard worse." Alfred seemed to find this comforting. "Um, just out of curiosity, are you still together with that significant other?" Arthur asked nonchalantly, drawing mindless little circles on his thigh. "After all of these years? I don't even remember their name. But to answer your question, no. I'm single right now. Single, a wreck, and living with my brother." Alfred sighed, running a hand through his blonde hair.

_It's amazing how he hasn't recognized me yet. His memory must be really messed up._

"Ah, alright then. Well, if you were so happy during your senior year, what made you fall apart?" Arthur asked, turning around in his seat so that he was sitting in it properly. Alfred shrugged. "I don't really know. Things were going really smooth. There wasn't a problem with the relationship. Heck, I even remember sharing an apartment with them. I don't recall anything bad happening." Alfred confessed.

The Briton frowned. _That's a lie…_

Trying to keep a straight face and not let his thoughts get to him. Arthur pressed on. "You don't remember anything? Nothing at all?" Alfred pursed his lips and stared at the ceiling as he thought. "Actually, now that I think about it, I think there was something."

Dr, Kirkland crossed his legs and encouraged the American to proceed. "It was about a year or two after the two of us moved into the apartment. We were doing fine up until then." Those baby blue eyes suddenly lost the life in them. Alfred aimlessly drew shapes into the couch, watching the fabric change color under his fingertips. There was a brief pause before he continued talking. "I…I went home after a night out-"

"Were you buzzed? And yes, I'm using that term lightly." The sassiness returned abruptly. Alfred looked up. His cheeks had a crimson blush on them, and another awkward cough echoed through the air. "Y-Yeah. I had a bit too much to drink. But it wasn't just me! I know for a fact my roommate at the time was pretty into drinking as well. That I remember clearly."

Arthur but his bottom lip. _Dang…Am I really that crazy when I'm tipsy? I didn't expect him to remember that. Hang on a minute, he remembers me being drunk but he doesn't remember my face? What kind of-?_

"A-Are you alright, Doctor Kirkland?" Alfred suddenly asked. Arthur snapped out of his thoughts. "What? Oh! Uh, yes. I'm sorry. I'm just kind of…out of it. Er, keep going." he commanded.

"Right. Well, we were both tipsy, and I honestly thought it would just blow over. You know, wake up with a killer headache in the morning, take some Tylenol, complain, and then feel better in a day or two. It was completely different that night. Things made a turn for the worse…"

Arthur stopped with the pen scratching and decided to just listen. _I already know the story. I'm in it. I might as well kick back for a while…_

"What happened?" Arthur asked innocently. A glance at Alfred showed that he was getting depressed himself. A soft sigh was heard before he continued.

"Something sparked…an argument. I think it was the rent or something. That's not important though. Er, anywho, things got pretty bad. We were really heated up, and I think I pushed the boundaries too far. The next thing I knew, they were packing up their bags and they stormed out the apartment. We were done, and that was final. That was the only thing we _didn't_ argue about that night.

"I was alone in the living room after the incident. I was just in disbelief I guess. It just didn't seem real. They were gone. Forever."

Dr. Kirkland gazed at the carpet for a while. "Forever…" he found himself whispering.

"I never heard from them again. They never replied to my calls or anything. Even when I wanted to apologize, I couldn't reach them."

_That's because I changed my number, you twit. _

"And then I heard some news from my brother. Apparently, my significant other was spotted at a restaurant with some French guy. 'Looked like they were hitting it off' he said. Man, eventhough we were broken up for months, I felt so jealous. I'm pretty sure Matthew sense it too. He told me to go get some fresh air to get my mind off of it. And that's what I did.

"I started walking aimlessly through the city. I was out for a pretty long time. When it was getting really late, I started walking home." There was a soft chuckle out of the American. Arthur looked up.

"Something happen?" he asked. Alfred's eyes were gentle. "Yeah. Something did happen. And I think it screwed up my life." he said darkly. The British doctor kept silence, halfway shocked by the sudden gloom that was overtaking the American. Said American took the silence as an invitation to continue talking.

"Like I said, I was making my way home, and…I guess I wasn't watching where I was going. One minute I was walking in a straight line, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, my body completely shattered."

The famous pen of the British doctor fell to the ground. Arthur stared at his patient with wide eyes. "You mean-?" he started, unable to finish. Alfred nodded. "I got hit by a car. I was lucky that the driver actually stopped and called 911. I would of been a goner if he didn't. I wasn't completely lucky though. I was still conscious throughout the entire thing amazingly, and I felt every single broken bone and possible every torn muscle in my body. It was, excuse my language, but hell. I literally wanted to black out, but apparently, the world wanted me to suffer through it all.

"The paramedics and ambulance rushed to the scene. I remember falling in and out of consciousness. Gosh, I just wanted to die right there. That's another thing I remember. That's how bad the pain was. The driver was trying to lighten things up with small talk. He was just trying to be a nice guy and all. The paramedics pulled up sooner or later and started dealing with me. The trip from the ground to the gurney was just…" Alfred shuddered.

"That bad?" Arthur implied. Alfred glimpsed over at the Briton. "It was pretty indescribable. They could even move me without causing me extreme pain. From the way they were acting, I should of been dead or something. And I can't argue. The impact was pretty bad. I _should_ of been dead. I survived miraculously, but I was like a broken toy on the ground and I was miserable."

The atmosphere in the room drastically sank to a dark, melancholy mood. Arthur lost all interest in talking. The shock from hearing this news stung him, stupefying him practically. The tart comments were kept to himself for the time being.

"They had to move me fast though before I actually died from blood loss. That's when one of the paramedics suggested it." A nostalgic grin suddenly appeared. "He…gave me my first dose of morphine. It was quick thinking, a spur of the moment." Alfred sudden stopped, wetting his lips. His fingers were eagerly tapping against the couch cushion.

"It took a while for it to actually kick in. When it did, I felt…Alive. It was pretty ironic, but I felt really good. But, the next thing I knew, I was pulled up onto that gurney and rushed to the E.R."

The humming of the air conditioner was the only sound heard for a while. The two friends ran out of words to say. Arthur resumed his mindless doodling of circles as he allowed all of this to sink in. _I need to ask him a question…_

Shifting in his seat again, Arthur made eye contact with is patient. Alfred sat up attentively like a student. He awaited for his next question.

"How did you get your morphine? It's nearly impossible without a prescription you know." Arthur pointed out. Alfred smiled. "It is.I know a guy though." he replied. "Why am I not surprised?" Arthur sighed, slightly rolling his eyes.

"So you've been getting it all from him?" Arthur assumed. Alfred nodded. "I thought it was a nice exchange. I get my morphine, I feel high and mighty, and he gets the money. It wasn't all that bad. But…Matthew was worried about me." The brief flash of cheerfulness in him died away.

"He said I shouldn't be taking all of this morphine. He said he read somewhere that it was highly addictive, and it would be a pain to get off of it if I didn't start cutting back now. I told him i'd try."

"You didn't did you?" asked. Alfred closed his eyes and shook his head. "I couldn't even go a few days without it. I started to depend on it. I was really hooked. I didn't want to let Mattie down though, so I tried a bunch of things to try to get me off of it. That led to another disaster though."

Alfred's voice cracked. Arthur looked up and saw that Alfred was starting to look uncomfortable again. "What happened?" the doctor asked. There was a long pause before Alfred decided to answer.

"I got hooked on something else."

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**A/N**- Le gasp~! Haha, well, we're almost done here. I got one more chapter to post and then it's done. You're gonna have to wait like normal for the other chapters ^^ Review, PM, all that jazz. Kay bai~!


	4. Revelation

**A/N- **Last one for now. :) Do you guys like it so far? this one has more of Alfred's past~

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia**

Enjoy~!

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_**Chapter 4**_

"I got hooked on something else."

Arthur's eyes widened at this confession. _The git's destroying himself! No wonder he's a complete mess!_

"Y-You did?" he managed to choke out, symptoms of disbelief showing. Alfred nervously chuckled.

"Hard to believe right? I was a total wreck. What could I say? I was dumped, replaced by a French guy, depressed for sometime, hit by a car. and a morphine addict. All of that in a short period of time too. It would make sense for me to add another thing to that list. I just keep screwing myself up. If I couldn't have my morphine, I would resort to some other getaway. I needed something that would help me forget, something that would numb me out and take me out of the real world."

"Lemme guess. Drugs?"

"Haha, you're pretty good at this. But surprisingly, no. I turned to alcohol. And I mean the hard stuff. From my experience, I knew a drunken state of mind would wipe out everything, and at that point, I was desperate enough to try anything. I'd go out as much as I could. After getting alcohol poisoning a bunch of time, Mattie had enough. He was sick of taking me to the hospital. He said something about how the staff was beginning to remember our names…?"

Arthur tapped his pen on the arm rest of his chair. All of the sympathy and self pity that he's been aiming towards himself suddenly seemed highly selfish. Not that his actions weren't already selfish…

"And so, I went to rehab and some therapy for a while. Not here of course. Way back when. That…sucked. It didn't help to be honest. I actually got worse. That's when I turned to drugs. But, that didn't last too long. Sniffing crack just didn't feel the same as morphine. And thus, I'm back at square one. And now I'm this close to getting kicked out if I don't fix my ways soon." Alfred lifted his hand and indicated a small amount with his hand. "So, that's why I'm here I guess. You could say my brother forced me here, but…I actually do want to change. I've had enough numbness. I want to be back to normal or close to that. I know I have a long journey ahead, but I'll do it. No matter what the cost."

There was another pause. Alfred seemed to be finished spilling his life to Arthur. Arthur closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. That was a lot of new information. He just needed to let it all sink in.

_I never thought I would meet a patient whose story would actually made me feel sorry for them. After all he's been through, he decides to get help now? He hasn't changed one bit…_

The silence dragged on. On ' part he honestly felt lighter. Only, one thing still bugged him.

_Maybe I should…No, that would be weird. But, I need to figure this out now. Okay, when the time comes, I'll ask him._

"Well, Mr. Jones. This was a nice session I have to say, but it looks like your time is up. From what I've heard, I think you've just earned yourself a room in this hell hole- I mean hospital. Rehab is definitely going to be a long road for you, but with enough determination, it's going to be painless. Hopefully~ Anywho, I'll go talk to your brother for a bit and plan things out alright?" Arthur asked, interrupting Alfred's thoughts.

His hope for the "right time" faded. "Oh, alright. Thank you." Alfred replied weakly, getting up. "Pleasure. You can find your way out yourself can't you?" Arthur asked, stretching and reaching out for his cane.

"Uh, I think so." Alfred respond, watching his doctor in slight confusion. "Splendid. Well, don't let the door hit you when you leave. Bye now." And with that, Arthur hobbled towards the door and left his patient alone.

...

"Feliciano, I need you to prepare a room." Dr. Kirkland commanded. The young nurse jumped as a patient file suddenly flew at him. "A-A room?" he repeated, fumbling with the file.

"Yes. A room. Mr. Jones is going to be a patient here now. Rehab." Dr. Kirkland explained.

"O-Oh okay. But, doesn't he need to fill out some paperwork?"

"Yep. Already got that. He's filling them out right now. Now run along and go get that room ready. You can go get your German boyfriend to help if you want. He looks like he enjoys cleaning things." Arthur sneered, limping away. Poor Feliciano stood frozen in one spot, unable to register what just happened. "Move it Vargas!"

Yipping like a puppy, Feli ran down the hall, almost slipping on the floor.

_New nurses annoy me. At least the kid's easy to manipulate at times…_

Arthur casually made his way to the waiting room of the building. He pushed the door opened and scanned the room. A slight twitch in his muscles signified that it was time for another dose of Vicodin. _Interesting…I didn't have an urge while I was with Alfred…OH GOSH I could just kill my self for even thinking that! _

Shuddering at the thought of what could be happening, Arthur pulled out his prescription bottle and balanced himself with his cane. After he managed to pop the bottle open, Arthur suddenly jerked forward, the bottle flying out of his hand. The small pills scattered on the ground, some rolling around still. Arthur's jaw dropped as he witnessed his precious pills got soiled by the waiting room's carpet.

"Oh maples! I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going! I'm so sorry!" a soft spoken voice apologized.

_That voice…_

Turning around, Arthur was greeted by another pair of shockingly blue eyes, highly similar to Alfred's.

_Matthew Williams. No doubt about it._

Indeed it was. Matthew Williams, also know as Alfred's brother, was definitely standing in front of Dr. Kirkland. Biting his bottom lip, Matthew looked like a little kid awaiting a scolding from his parent. The indignation building up in Arthur was really close in making him snap, but he thought better of it. He did something very odd.

He laughed it off.

"Haha, no problem. No harm done. They're not poisoned. You're alright." he told him, a half smile on his lips. "H-Here, let me help you." Matthew offered. After picking up as many pills as possible from the ground, Matthew stood back up and handed them over to Arthur.

"Here you go. I'm really sorry about that Doctor…" Matthew suddenly trailed off. Not sure exactly why, Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Matthew suddenly stepped back a few steps. His eyes were wide and his mouth was slightly agape. The doors from behind Arthur suddenly were pushed open. Alfred appeared, slinging his jacket over his body, a weariness on his features. He too raised an eyebrow when he saw his brother.

"Hey Mattie? What's wrong?"

Matthew regained his composure, but his eyes were toned down into a very odd look. A look full of contempt.

"Mattie? Say something!" Alfred begged, slighting getting freaked out by his brother's behavior.

That's when it was said.

"Doctor Arthur Kirkland. Long time no see."

* * *

**A/N- ** And that my friend, was the last prewritten chapter I have. Now you have to wait. Sorry D: But I hope you guys like it so far ^^ Tell me whatcha think kay? Oh, and don't be scared to check out my other stories as well. Well, bye now!


	5. Turning Tables

**A/N- **I'm back! Wow, this story has been pretty popular. I'm happy you guys like how mesed up they are. Well, I hope I didn't keep you waiting for long. Here's the next chapter! Yes, Mattie does go a bit OOC, but that's just for a little while ^.^

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia!**

Enjoy Loves~

* * *

_**Chapter 5**_

"Doctor Arthur Kirkland. Long time no see."

The words resonated in the small waiting room. Through the Englishman's eyes, the world seemed like it stopped moving, and that all eyes were on them. A hot embarrassment shot through him, a slight tremble in his nerves. They were the main attraction, and at that moment, Arthur would of done anything to avoid that...

…

The American's innocent eyes returned to their glazed over state, his pulse quickening at the mention of that name, and his breathing shallow.

_T-There's…There's no way! That's impossible!_

Alfred's blue eyes lingered on his doctor. The blonde hair, green eyes, and sharp attitude suddenly all rang a bell. All the pieces matched up to form a picture, but Alfred simply refused to accept it. The picture was wrong. _Everything_ was wrong. This strange doctor in front of him couldn't be the same person from years ago. One prominent feature was Alfred's support for his conclusion.

_His leg…That's something different. There's no way this is him. But…What if- No. That's crazy. _

His couldn't believe it. He didn't _want_ to believe it. There was a major flaw in all of this. There was absolutely no way that this doctor, the man that he just confessed all of his faults, all of his trauma, all of his life to, was the cause of it all. It was madness.

There was no doubt that the entire situation was completely insane, yet that fuzzy image of his significant other suddenly started to come into focus. The longer Alfred stared at Arthur, the more clear the details became. Soon, the picture n his mind was a spitting image of Dr. Kirkland himself. Alfred paled.

For the other half of the duo, the sudden revelation was a much more unpleasant thing. Dr. Kirkland could feel himself get a bit sick. He knew his identity would be revealed sooner or later, but he honestly didn't think the person who'd figure it out would be the person's _brother_. Plus, he thought the secret would be revealed in _private_, now out in the open in the middle of a waiting room full of patients.

Arthur stood motionless, unsure on what he should say. He bit his lip as he listened to the upcoming scolding.

"It's a bit ironic don't you think? The problem that messed up my brother for good is here to _fix_ it?" Matthew's harsh words stung, but the Briton was too stunned to think of a comeback.

_I don't remember him being this bold. He was always in the shadows…_

"Mattie-" Alfred softly cut in.

"Arthur, do you honestly expect me to pay you to fix my brother when you're the one who screwed him up? You're the one who caused him to be like this! You don't care about him anymore. You're probably going to push him to his breaking point!" The soft spoken Canadian raised his voice up a notch. The patients in the waiting room seemed to cling onto Matthew's every word, their confidence in Dr. Kirkland's ability to treat them gradually diminishing.

Arthur's voice was caught in his throat. Only a hoarse whisper managed to escape. "I-I'm sorry." The Englishman's voice had a clear crack in it. His now fragile eyes were glued to the ground.

"You should be sorry. I'm not letting my brother get checked into this hell hole. If he's getting treatment, it's going to be from someone I know I can trust. That's final. You should be ashamed of yourself you dirty little-"

"Mattie!" Alfred shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls. Many heads were turned towards their direction. Matthew froze in the middle of his sentence, his gaze on his brother now. Alfred clenched his fists as he announced his request.

"I-I want to be checked in. As a patient. As Dr. Kirkland's patient." Alfred's eye never left the carpet either as he said this. The Canadian's eyes widened at his brother's request. "A-Alfred? Are you insa-"

"I want to get help, Matthew. From Dr. Kirkland. I-I think he can hep me more than anyone else can. A-After all, he was there." A weak smiled was played on his lips as his eyes left the ground, glancing over at his doctor, searching for a reaction.

Arthur swallowed hard. The entire situation was definitely _not_ in his favor. Not only did he get scolded by a snapped Canadian, but his old boyfriend was actually serious about checking into the hospital on his _own will _for treatment from _him_. The thought of working with Alfred for an extensive amount of time to reverse the damage wasn't a pleasant one. It would be just a constant reminder of the harm he has unintentionally caused Alfred. Things between a doctor and patient should be private but not personal. This case shattered that rule. This entire incident _was_ personal, very last bit of it. No matter how you looked at it, Arthur Kirkland _was_ the problem.

Matthew was still allowing his brother's demand to sink in. "A-Are you sure, Alfred? I don't think…" he trailed off, the sentence finishing itself off by a single glance over at Dr. Kirkland. The blue eyed American nodded.

"I'm sure. Besides, this is probably the only time I'll ever be confident about going to rehab and getting help. It's either now or never, Mattie." Alfred quoted.

Stiffly nodding, Matthew agreed. "O-Okay Alfred. If this is what you really want. Um, is there anymore paper work to fill out, Dr. Kirkland?" he asked, his usual soft spoken tone returning.

The conversation made a sharp swerve towards average. The normal sequence of events that usually happen when a patient checks in proceeded. Arthur blinked a couple of times, adjusting to the abrupt transition. "Er, I think you've filled out everything. Um, I'll send Nurse Vargas here to make sure though." Matthew nodded. "Alright then."

An awkward dismissal later, Arthur turned towards the door. Alfred's voice suddenly piped up. "When exactly do you want me to move in, Arthur?" Arthur's grip on the door handle suddenly tightened.

…

_"I'm glad you've finally decided to move in, love." he proclaimed, the green eyes twinkling with sincerity. _

_"Me too. It's about time we take things up a notch. Hmm…When exactly do you want me to move in?" the blue- eyed American asked, hugging his significant other from behind closely. _

_"Whenever you feel comfortable." he replied, leaning back against the American's chest, closing the gap that was in between them. The American leaned down and cradled his head in the crook of the Briton's neck. A gently smile was felt on his skin._

…

Arthur snapped back into the present. He gulped before choking out a reply.

"Whenever you feel comfortable, Mr. Jones." he responded, pushing the heavy door open. Before stepping through, those green eyes turned back and glanced at the American. "And it's Dr, Kirkland. Let's be professional here." With that, Arthur disappeared past the swinging doors.

_**-A Month or Two Later-**_

"You have another session with Mr. Jones scheduled for Friday, Dr. Kirkland." Feliciano announced, walking backwards in front of the hobbling Briton.

"Splendid, just what I need. Another two hour talk about how I screw up his life. That's not depressing at all." Arthur snapped sarcastically. Reaching into his coat packet, Arthur popped the cap off of his prescription bottle with one hand, a very useful skill that he has developed over the last few months. As he allowed the Vicodin pills to spill out, the rookie nurse frowned.

"Sir, isn't that for chronic pain?" Feliciano asked, concerned. Arthur popped the pills before replying.

"I am in pain. And sooner or later, I'm going to be depressed. It's going to take a lot more than Vicodin to fix that." he said glumly, his walking increasing into a brisk pace. Feliciano struggled to keep up without tripping backwards.

"Stop walking backwards, Vargas. You're about to run into a cart." Arthur pointed out plainly as he turned into a hallway.

Feliciano was last seen with a perplexed expression, but he soon met his fate. Even from down the hall, Dr. Kirkland could hear the crash and a high pitched yelp from the nurse.

"Idiot…" Arthur sighed, walking off towards his office.

The past few months at the hospital were Arthur's worst, and his features clearly showed it. A clenched jaw would signify his annoyance with his entire situation, and the dark circles under his eyes symbolized the lack of sleep and fatigue he had been suffering from. The jitteriness was a side effect of the frequent use of his Vicodin. An overdose was in his future if he wasn't careful. That wasn't the only thing that has changed though. Arthur's personality, surprisingly, had gotten worse.

As if the nurses and staff didn't have enough to deal with before already, now they had to deal with Arthur's extreme bluntness and tart tongue. Most of the time, people avoided Arthur in case he was having one of his moody moments. The only people that could tolerate Arthur's behavior was Feliciano, and of course his new patient, Mr. Alfred Jones.

_Why did he have to agree to checking into here out of all places? What can I do to help him? He's just making my life worse…Twit._

The long day was coming to an end. Another session with Alfred was managed today. It seemed like the sessions just kept getting more and more frequent. He had already spilled his deep dark secrets, so what more was there to talk about? Just ship him off to another rehab center already, but no, Jones was stuck here.

Arthur sighed. The burden of all of this was really wearing him down. Talking about his problems was one thing, but actually treating them was another. It seemed like Alfred needed one more session before he could officially start detoxing. Cutting off his morphine supply all at once could be detrimental to his health. Cutting it off little by little is the best.

Arthur stopped in front of the glass door of his office. He slightly pursed his lips at he sight.

_There's no privacy in this place. I mean, really. It's like I work in a giant glass box. It's nothing but windows. _Being his usual smart ass self, Arthur pulled out his key. Slipping it into the lock, he raised an eyebrow.

_My office is already unlocked? Hm…I guess I forgot to lock it earlier. _

Shrugging off the thought, Arthur pulled the door open, allowing the light from the hallway to flood into his pitch black office. As the light seeped through, Arthur caught sight of a visitor sitting in his rolling chair, hands folded across his lap as if he had been patiently waiting.

Slightly taken aback, the only reaction Arthur could pull off was a slightly dropped jaw. No anger, no indignation, none of his usually responses. Just silence. This seemed to please his visitor.

As he slowly regained control of his muscles again, Arthur started walking forward, entering his office. The glass door closed behind him, the only light flooding in the room gone. Only a small amount poured in from the glass walls.

Arthur cautiously walked forward towards his visitors. The baby- blue eyes glistened in the faint light. Arthur wearily sighed. "What are you doing here, Alfred?" he asked, his tone clearly showing his impatience for any shenanigans. Alfred's only reply was simple.

"I think it's about time you tell me some of _your_ secrets, Arthur."

* * *

**A/N- **And cue cliff hanger! I know, I'm mean. But what did you guys think? Review and PM me and tell me whatcha think! Thanks for reading! until next time, ciao~!


	6. Secrets and Surprises

**A/N- **Yay! It's what you've all been waiting for! You guys finally get to see what Arthur's been through for the past few years. Now, it's not as detailed as Alfred's, but it's still pretty emotional. And you guys get some actions at the end that'll make you squeal ;)

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia!**

Enjoy loves!

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

The ticking of the analog clock counted down the seconds between pauses. The confidence that was suddenly shining in Alfred was something Arthur didn't expect. His behavior was something very different from what he saw at the therapy sessions.

"W-What are you talking about, git?" Arthur hissed, a hidden note of uneasiness in his voice.

"You know all of my secrets. I get to know about yours. It's mutual, Arthur." Dr. Kirkland gazed at his patient with impatient eyes. "We're not in a relationship anymore, _Mr. Jones_. I don't have to be honest with you all the time anymore. I can keep secrets from you if I want to. And it's Dr. Kirkland. Get that straight. I'm your doctor, and you are just a patient. That's that. So get out." he growled, throwing his things to the side.

Alfred didn't budge. "You and I both know a lot of things have happened in the past few years. I almost died, and I'm slowly killing myself now, and you…" His eyes traveled down to Arthur's leg, a cheeky expression on his face. If Arthur wasn't mistaken, it almost came off as _suggestive_…

"It's none of your business what goes on in my life. I have my own privacy now. You can't just pry your way into my private life." he snapped. Alfred chuckled to himself.

"Arthur, you and I both went downhill after that night. You have a cane. Your leg is messed up, and from what I've seen, you have an addiction as well."

Arthur stiffly walked over to his desk, casually flipping through the files lying in a tray. "It's chronic pain. It's not an addiction. I take the pills when I'm in pain. That's what you're suppose to do with pills." he sassed.

"Taking them every twenty minutes is not in the directions. I should know. I've tried it once or twice." Alfred noted. Arthur glanced up, his mouth opened in protest. "I do not take them every twenty minutes!" he shouted, clearly offended.

"Well it sure looks like it. Come on, Arthur." the Alfred cooed, his voice full of encouragement. Arthur shook his head. "No. I'm not talking to you about _my_ life. _I'm _suppose to be talking about to _you_ about _your _life. Not the other way around." Arthur looked straight into the American's eyes as he deadpanned the sentence. With his keys in one hand and a file in the other, Arthur limped his way over to the other side of his desk, his body making its way over to one of the drawers in the desk.

Ignoring the American's presence, Arthur squeezed his way in between him and the desk. The keys chimed in the air as Arthur searched through the ring. Just when he found the right key and was about to slip it into the lock, he felt a gentle hold on both of his hips, and he was jerked back, practically swept off his feet. A crimson blush crept onto his cheeks when he realized the position he was in.

Over the past few weeks, Alfred managed to crawl out of his shell and be his usual bold self. Today, he somehow managed to grow enough balls to actually reach out and pulled Dr. Kirkland right onto his lap, arms wrapped tightly around the exasperated doctor.

"What the _bloody_ hell do you think you're doing?" Arthur shouted, a wave of hot embarrassment shooting up his neck. He was highly thankful that the room was pitch black and that his door was tightly closed at the time.

"Come now, Arthur. Don't be such a hardhead. I already know what happened for the most part. You just need to fill in the blanks leading up to today. Please? For me?" he pleaded. The American's tone was awfully sweet, and it made Arthur uncomfortably squirm under Alfred's grasp. Arthur's breath caught when he felt Alfred slide his hands down more towards Arthur's hips, pulling him more into his lap. The American silently smirked when he felt his doctor tense up.

"F-Fine. I'll talk, but only for a little bit. Just let me go before I kick you out." Dr. Kirkland demanded, pushing himself up from the American's lap. Arthur's dignity was the only thing keeping him together at that point.

Alfred seemed pleased and immediately released Arthur from his hold when he heard Arthur agree. "Alright." he grinned, sitting up. Arthur's body language obviously showed his lack of excitement in spilling his life story, but the Briton still grabbed a chair and pushed it over to where Alfred was, positioning the seat directly in front of the American. A grim sigh was heard as Arthur took a seat.

Alfred ran a finger over his bottom lip as he thought about a good starting point. "Hmm…Let's see. I already know that you ran off after that fight. Oh! I know! Where did you run off to?" he asked, crossing his legs. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest in a defiant manner. The familiar cold, tsundere look that Arthur always had on that Alfred usually managed to melt away returned to Dr. Kirkland's face. "Away from you obviously." he retorted sharply.

"Well I know _that_. I mean where? You didn't really have anywhere to go. Your old place was over two hours away, and I _know_ for a fact you didn't want to stay with that Spanish guy we met while moving in. So where'd you run off to?" Alfred persisted. Arthur shifted in his seat, causing the rolling chair to move back a few inches.

"I stayed in a hotel for a few nights. I just needed to get away for a while." His hard expression showed that he was hiding something important. Something that was crucial to his story.

"Did something happened at the hotel?" Alfred interrogated. Arthur shrugged. "Decent food, fancy rooms, nice people." he replied vaguely. The idea of Arthur calling other people nice was a very taboo thing to hear, especially when you've known the man for almost 10 years.

"Nice people? Since when have you called people nice?" Alfred asked, raising a a suspicious eyebrow. The Briton shrugged. "I called you nice didn't I?"

"I don't count. What exactly made them nice?" Alfred pried. "I don't know. They were just…nice." Arthur replied simply.

Seeing as how this was getting absolutely nowhere, Alfred decided to let the topic slip just for now. "Okay, moving on. How long did you stay at the hotel?" Alfred asked.

"A couple of months." Arthur replied, glancing out the pitch black windows. "Months? Hm, alright then. Where'd you go afterwards?" Dr. Kirkland shifted in his seat.

_Gah, is this how my patients feel? This sucks…_

"I moved in with a friend afterwards." he replied, tracing nervous circles into his thigh. "Who? Do I know him?" Alfred asked, sitting up. Arthur hesitated. "He…He went to high school with us. He was friends with Matthew for a while." Arthur answered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

The deteriorating section of the American's brain that held memories of previous years had suffered major damage from his drug and alcohol abuse. Alfred racked his brain trying to gather up as much of his high school year as possible.

_A friend of Mattie's? Well, that's a hard one. Matthew didn't really have any friends. Didn't really put out much…Hm, who was that one guy? That' blonde guy? I remember seeing his face at our house a few times. Ugh, what was his name? Fred? Frankie? Fran-_

Alfred's breathing hitched into a gasp. His baby blue eyes widened and dilated as the realization hit him.

Arthur's ears perked up at the American's gasp. He daringly glanced up from the ground, a regret running through him. Alfred's dropped jaw only made Dr. Kirkland feel worse. Arthur sunk down lower in his seat, his body language resembling that of a small toddler bracing himself for another scolding.

_My, I'm just a troublesome littler British boy aren't I?_ Arthur thought, a twang of guilt hitting him. He watched as the bare shadow of his companion stretched out longer. The sound of the rolling chair squeaking back confirmed that Alfred stood up from his seat.

The intense gaze from those blue eyes were almost intimidating. Arthur's usual hard green eyes softened dramatically, those eyes sitting on the brink of vulnerableness. Biting his bottom lip, Arthur awaited that dreaded gasp of astonishment.

Alfred stared down at his former significant other. His chest started to shake as extreme disbelief started to set in. Dr. Kirkland was a stranger now through the American's eyes. This was not Arthur Kirkland. There was no way Arthur Kirkland would move in with-

"Francis Bonnefoy?" Alfred breathed. The name came out with a bitter sharpness to it, a note that Arthur clearly heard. He winced at Alfred's abrupt coldness. "You, out of all people, decided to move in with Francis? I thought you hated him!" Alfred yelled, his voice filling up the office. Arthur shyly grinned a half smile. "W-Well, I didn't exactly say I hated him-" The American was quick to correct him on that remark.

"You called him a frog! And then you called him a bunch of other names! That's another thing I remember clearly. You two never stopped fighting! What gives Arthur? Did you change everything about you after we broke up? Did you suddenly start liking obnoxiously perverted French guys? Did you suddenly-" Dr. Kirkland sharply cut in.

"He was a rebound!" he found himself shouting. The indignant American found himself muted, the retort from his doctor clearly unexpected. "W-What?" Alfred choked out, his emotions clearly mixed. Arthur sucked in a deep breath of air, his response shocking even to himself. "Francis was my rebound. I saw him working as a waiter at the hotel I was staying at, and we just started to talk. I told him about my situation and he offered me a room at his place, and I took it."

A look of disgust from the American led the Briton to add, "What was I suppose to do Alfred? Sleep on the streets? I had a free room thrown in my face! Of course I took it." Arthur's voice continued to crack as he continued his story, ignoring Alfred's silent side comments.

"I moved in with my stuff, and he was friendly about the entire thing. He still kind of hated me as well, so he didn't really get too personal with me. After a while though, we started getting more tolerable of each other and we started hitting it off. He took me out one day and we ended up getting _too_ friendly."

"You mean you slept with him? Arthur, how could you do that after all these-"

"Let me finish!" Dr. Kirkland's voice was raised to a dangerous tone. His outburst threatened to go past the thin glass walls of his office. Alfred soon started to realize that there was more to the story than just a one night stand. He took a deep breath before sitting down. Arthur took it that he was allowed to continue.

"We got past the friend zone, and yes, we had _that_ kind of relationship. B-But…But…" a sharp intake of breath from the Briton caught Alfred's attention. The American's jaw dropped again when he saw

his doctor's behavior.

Hand gripping the arm rests of his chair tightly, Arthur was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. His staggered breathing showed an effort to hold in the tears. He was hyperventilating from the effort. A lone tear managed to escape despite all his strength to hold it in.

"A-Arthur!" Alfred instinctively leaped out of his chair, the heroism trait in him coming out to the rescue. Kneeling down in front of the Briton, Alfred tried to get him to breath right. "Arthur, calm down. Arthur, listen to me. What happened?"

Arthur shook his head, refusing to answer. His eyes were snapped shut, his pride too big to allow Alfred to see him cry openly. Alfred's hand cupped the side of Arthur's head, forcing Arthur to look him in the eye. "Arthur, tell me what happened." Alfred commanded, a concerned note in his voice.

"W-We still fought, Alfred. We fought, but it always ended up with some kind of apology and we'd go to bed like nothing ever happened. I-It…It started getting more frequent the longer we were together though. The fights w-would become more f-frequent and they'd last l-longer. And then…And then…" Arthur's story was cut short by a sob.

Alfred stroked Arthur's cheek coaxingly. "It's okay. Just calm down. And then what? What happened?"

Arthur finally broke down and allowed himself to freely cry for a little bit. The pain he's been holding in was finally allowed to break free until his pride came back to bottle up the feelings.

"W-We went too far one night. We w-were having one of our stupid arguments again and he…He lost control. He started getting too aggressive with me. I usually was able to keep him down until things blew off, but things were different that night. H-He went too far a-and I ended up getting hurt.

"I-I remembered him pushing me straight into a nightstand. The corner smashed into my hip, shattering it. I collapsed right there, and he knew he went too far at that moment. It was too late though. I..I remember him calling my name and apologizing, but I kept on blacking in and out. The pain was making me lose my mind, and I was starting to lose feeling in my right side." Dr. Kirkland was beginning to feel that pain again as the story dragged on.

"H-He called the ambulance and they took me away to the nearest hospital. I was in the emergency room. I was knocked out the minute I arrived so that they could reverse the damage that was done. Some internal bleeding they told me. But…When I woke up, they told me my right side was a complete goner. There was so much nerve damage that my right leg was completely useless. All it could do was give me a continual surge of pain. They told me they wanted to amputate it. I wouldn't let them. I said I was going to deal with the pain. I don't regret that decision even today.

"Th- they tried to talk me into it, but I wouldn't give in. In the end, they respected my decision and gave me some pain killers to cope with the pain. What they didn't know that the pain killers were my escape, and that I was a doctor who knew pretty well on how to get his hands on more Vicodin. I…I kind of got hooked onto them. I started to depend on them to get rid of my pain, physical and emotional. Now, I can't go a day without them."

Alfred patiently listened to his doctor's story. His emotions got to him, and he was beginning to feel the pain that Arthur went through. It seems as though they both really did go downhill without each other. It was just a thought, but if that fight never happened, they wouldn't be like this. Two drug addicts, one who was physically handicapped and one who had brain damage from his search for a new escape...

Alfred could feel Arthur shake under his touch. His sobs were getting more violent, and the tears kept on coming.

"I shouldn't have gotten together with him, Alfred. I shouldn't have done it. II shouldn't have stayed with him. I should of left when it was getting bad, but I didn't do it. I don't know why I didn't. A-And now…I'm just a wreck. I can't survive without my drugs, and I'm just…" Arthur couldn't bring himself to finish that sentence. His bottled up pain was finally being released, and it felt good. All of his suffering was finally revealed to someone. He wasn't bitter by choice. Something had made him like this. While everyone was whispering remarks about him behind his back, he was longing to tell them the real reason why, but he couldn't do it. He kept everything to himself. Finally, he has a chance to spill everything. Now that he has crossed out that task from his list, all that's left to do is find a shoulder to cry on. And he had one right in front of him.

Rather unintentionally, Arthur started to lean forward, resting his head on the American's shoulder. Alfred never said anything about it. He never protested or anything. Alfred seemed to just accept it and continued with the comforting. An occasionally rub on the back encouraged the Briton to let it all out. It was a pitiful time for the two of them, but it allowed the American to think about some things.

Arthur always had a sarcastic side to him, but it was never this bad. Alfred seemed to be the only thing that managed to control the Englishman's attitude. Even though he made Arthur mad at times, a faint smile was always present on his face, even at the worst times. Well, except for that one time…

As Dr. Kirkland slowly began to calm down, Alfred hugged him closer. Arthur didn't seem to realize what position he was in, but even if he did, he probably wouldn't have cared. A tear stained face was something he would rather hide from Alfred, even if it meant hiding his face in the crook of the American's neck.

Alfred rested his head onto of Arthur's. His chest heaved as he sighed. Arthur seemed to quiet himself down, the only crying left was an occasionally sniffle here and there. The duo remained motionless for sometime before Arthur pushed himself off of Alfred, wiping his face with the back of his hand. After gathering himself, Dr. Kirkland exhaled.

"Gah…I'm sorry you had to see that. That's not like me." he apologized, wiping at his eyes. Alfred glanced up at his doctor, a peculiar expression on his face. Even with his blurred vision, Arthur still noticed the odd look. "What?" he asked.

Alfred's gaze on his doctor lingered a bit longer, his mind contemplating on whether or not he should do what his body was urging for. The longer he thought though, the more the urge grew. The risk of getting kicked out of the hospital was high, but if his last move was this, then so be it.

Arthur continued to grow more nervous while Alfred grew more bold. It wasn't until Alfred started to get to his feet did Arthur understand.

"H-Hey now! Don't you start that you- nngh."

A hand crept up the chair, finding its place on Arthur's leg. Another hand traced the Briton's jawline, gently cupping it. Their lips made contact, a soft kiss shared among the two. The gentle coaxing ways of the American only helped the Briton accept the kiss. A moan cut off the Englishman's warning, his anger melting away. This seemed to encourage the American to take things further. Pressing down on Arthur's jaw, Alfred managed to get him to part his lips, an opportunity for his tongue to dart in. As things began to heat up, Alfred seemed to get even bolder. His hand made its way up to Arthur's thigh, but that's when Arthur began to realize how wrong things were getting.

Before Alfred could deepen the kiss any further, Arthur's lips clamped down, rejecting the American's tongue. Placing his hand on Alfred'd neck, Arthur pried the American off of him. A bit breathless himself, Arthur only managed to gaze at his patient in completely confusion.

"W-Why?"

"Why what?" Alfred asked, trying to lean in again. The hand at this neck prevented this. "Why are you doing this? I-I thought you'd hate me by now. I mean, I ruined your life. I made you a drug addict. I made you get hit by a _car! _I'm the reason you're like this. I'm the problem."

Alfred contemplated on his doctor's words. It would make sense for him to hate Arthur, but somehow, that wouldn't fix things either. A faint smiled splayed across his lips. Alfred's hand moved to his own neck, his hand laying on on top of Arthur's. Removing the grip that was preventing him from leaning in for another kiss, Alfred stole another one from Arthur's lips.

"You may be a problem, but you're _my_ problem."

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**A/N- **Yea-Uh! How'd you like that? Magical UsUK isn't it? Ha, I'm proud of this :P Anywho, I apologize for any missing words that FanFiction may have randomly taken out. Okay! Well, review, PM, and all hat jazz. Tell me what you guys think!

Oh, and another note. I'm glad you guys subscribed to this story and favorited it and all of that. I felt really special :) Keep it up and spread the word! :D Thanks for reading! Until next time, bai~!


	7. Kisses, Tic Tacs, and More Kisses

**A/N-** Ciao bellas~! I'm back! I know, you missed your frequent dose of adorable UsUk from me. I know. In my defense, I had a small time period of writer's block. But then, last night, I had this BURST of AWESOME inspiration! And I must say, this chapter is one of my favorite's so far. I stayed up until 12:30 writing it, and I wrote it in about 40 minutes, but I think this one is going to be a good one for you all :)

And another thing, I love you guys~! I love the reviews and alerts this story ha been getting. Makes me fee loved :3 Anywho~! Onto the disclaimer!

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia or any of the names mentioned in this chapter.**

Yeah, you'll see some familiar brand names in this one. Better safe than sorry, non? ^^"

Alright! Enough chit chat! Onto the goodness! Enjoy~!

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_**Chapter 7**_

"A-Are you alright. sir?" the timid, newbie Italian nurse asked. Since he was the only one that hung around Dr. Kirkland on a regular basis, he was forced- er, _chosen-_ to be the one to ask of the doctor's condition. Somehow, going mentally insane in a mental hospital was seen in the future by the rest of the staff. Since everyone else wasn't ready to part with their lives yet , they picked the youngest one to do it.

Feliciano nervously awaited for the doctor's response. Busy with shuffling a pile of paper, Arthur took a minute before turning around to look at Feliciano. One glance at the nurse was all it took to determine the nurse's feelings at that moment.

His hands shaking, Feliciano was debating whether to forget the question and run away, or stand there and the brave soldier everyone was wanting him to be eventhough he could barely be the nurse he actually was.

Feliciano was about to take his first choice when he remembered that the entire staff was hiding in the hall right behind him, ready to push him back onto the "battlefield" when he was ready to retreat.

_Dang it…I'm screwed._

Dr. Kirkland blinked a few times as he gazed at his rookie nurse. His green eyes were intimidating to the nurse eventhough no anger was shown just yet. To his surprise, a grin spread across the Briton's lips, and a laugh was even expressed. A bare gasp of awe escaped the Italian's mouth.

"Oh, hello there, Feli. How are you this morning? I'm just brilliant! I've never been better. Thank's for asking…Are you alright? You look a bit pale."

Completely surprised by his superior's answer, Feliciano faulted to answer. Cheery? "Brilliant?" He even called him Feli! Something was definitely not right about Dr. Kirkland.

"Feliciano? Are you alright?" the Briton asked again, his eyebrows furrowed in a concerned dip.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Feliciano finally shook out of his little trance and replied. "A-Ah yes. I'm sorry." he apologized.

"There's nothing to be sorry for. Here." Feliciano watched as Dr. Kirkland dug around in his white coat's pocket.

_Oh no, he's about to offer me some of his Vicodin. He _has_ gone crazy after all._

Another surprise hit the unsuspecting Italian. In his doctor's hand wasn't his familiar prescription bottle, but a handful of chocolate Kisses. The staff's chatter was consisting of hushed whispers now, and the noise level was way past discreet.

"Here you go. I know you like chocolate. Or, was that Ludwig?" A pause was inserted as the Englishman thought. A shrug ended his thoughts. "Oh well. Candy's candy. Here, take one."

His hand outstretched in an offering manner, Dr. Kirkland awaited for his nurse to take the offer. Feli just stared. The situation was starting to oddly resemble an old creeper offering a child candy, and it was just screaming "Don't' take it!", but afraid of what the doctor would do if he declined, Feliciano took the topmost Kiss in the pile.

"T-Thank you, sir." he thanked, staring down at the silvery wrapped chocolate drop. Satisfied with the accepted offer, Dr. Kirkland took out another handful and laid out the combined number of candies across the counter of the sign in desk. "Feel free to take some more if you'd like. I've got plenty. That goes for you all too!' he added, glancing at the crowd that was building up in the hallway. "You all take as many as you want too! But don't go selfish on the candy now."

A smile plastered on his face, Dr. Kirkland returned to his pockets, not noticing the confused and daze stares of his staff. Pulling out a plastic rectangular container filled with orange flavored mints, Dr. Kirkland popped the top off and dumped out a rather heavy handful and popped all of the mints into his mouth. A satisfied sigh was heard as the flavor of the mints started to kick in.

"Almost as good as the pills." he declared. Looking back up, Arthur noticed that his staff was still in the same spot they were in before. No one dared moved a muscle. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you guys want some, too?" he asked, offering out his container. Heads slightly moved side to side, a stiff "no" coming from everyone.

"Oh. Alright then. Don't be shy to ask." Picking up his files and papers, Arthur started to walked off. He hesitated for a bit though, and he took a few steps back. Glancing at the pile of Kisses on the counter, Arthur decided to take two from the pile. "Alright. Carry on now." he said to his staff. And with that, Arthur Kirkland was dismissed.

With the silver wrapped chocolate Kiss in his palm, Feliciano stared after his doctor, still utterly amazed at his strange behavior. One they saw that the coast was clear and that it was safe to come out from their poor hiding spot, the rest of the staff started to dissolve and disperse, but their facial expressions mimicked the Italian's quite uniformly.

His jaw still slightly dropped, Feliciano clamped it shut when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, slightly jumping. Looking up, he found that his German companion was standing there, his gaze still fixed on the door.

"That was…odd." Ludwig declared, his grip on the Italian's shoulder tightening for emphasis.

"Y-Yeah. It was." Feliciano agreed, a grimace on his face as he saw the sticky mess his grip on the chocolate left. A pause was inserted between the two. After removing the wrapper from his palm, Feliciano broke the silence. "Ludwig…I'm scared."

"In all honesty, I kind of am too."

The two were one of the last ones to leave, Ludwig staring at the door still trying to put the pieces together, and Feliciano busy licking his hand, unsanitary as it was.

"I wonder if there's anymore chocolate there." Feliciano asked aloud, glancing at the counter.

"Here, you can have mine." Ludwig offered handing his boyfriend his share of the chocolate Kisses.

"Yay~! Grazie~!"

. . .

"Alfred, you in here?" The Briton peeked his head into the American's room, looking left and right to find him.

"Hey, you're right on time." Alfred beamed. Seeing Alfred curled up in a chair, Arthur grinned and walked inside his room, sliding the glass door shut behind him.

"I got you a little something this morning." he announced, setting the files down on a nearby table, and walking towards the American. "You did? What is it?" Alfred asked, eager as usual.

"Well it's something a bit more nutritious than that fast food you love so much." Arthur hinted, taking a seat on the armrest of the chair. "If you bought me a vegetable, I'm going to throw a fit." Alfred said.

"Nope. Even better." Alfred stared at his doctor, his head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. "A fruit?" Arthur chuckled. "Honestly, Alfred. Just because I'm a doctor doesn't mean I give fruits and vegetables as presents. You should know me by now. Guess again."

"Is it a-"

"I don't give out herbs either. Give up?"

Seeing as how naming healthy things weren't going to get him anywhere, Alfred ran out of guesses and nodded. "Close your eyes then." Arthur instructed. Doing as he was told, Alfred closed his eyes.

With his eyes closed, his sense of hearing detected a rustling of fabric next to him. When the rustling stopped, Alfred was tempted to open his eyes. A feeling on his lips stopped him however. Warm lips were pressed against his, a familiar smile on them. Grinning back into them, Alfred's pulse started to increase. It was a lingering kiss that wasn't going to go anywhere, and with the energy that was bottled up inside of him, Alfred _needed _the kiss to go somewhere.

Just when Arthur was about to pull back, Alfred took the opportunity to do his signature move and take a little nip at his lover's bottom lip. This caused Arthur to flinch, but it also caused him to part his mouth as well. Alfred's tongue didn't hesitate to shoot in, stealing an unexpected French kiss from Arthur.

A whine of protest from Arthur quickly ended things, and the two broke off. "Alfred, you sly little-!" The shiver that passed through Arthur's spine prevented him to finish off the insult.

"Haha, don't deny it. You loved that. Was that my surprise?" Alfred asked, smiling. Arthur fixed himself up a bit before replying. "No, but that was part of it." Taking out the silver wrapped chocolate, Arthur dangled it by the paper tassel at the top in front of Alfred's nose, tapping his nose playfully. The American went cross eyed looking at the thing in front of him, sending Arthur into a small fit of giggles.

Alfred reached up and took the chocolate. "Oh, that's sweet. I liked the first half of my present better though." he confessed, unwrapping the candy immediately. "Of course you did. I didn't expect you to bite me though." Arthur noted, licking at is bottom lip.

"Well you weren't doing anything. I haven't kissed you in a while. I needed to get that out of my system." Alfred answered truthfully, popping the chocolate drop into his mouth. "You kissed me yesterday. That was so long ago?"

"To me, yes. I didn't know chocolate was healthy for you."

"Dark chocolate is. I don't really care for it though, so I bought a pack of milk instead. I've been having a rather sweet tooth lately." Arthur explained, taking out his little container of mints. Seeing this, Alfred's grin grew even wider. "I see you've dropped the Vicodin. See? What did I tell you? Tic Tacs are like drugs aren't they?"

"Mm, they are quite addicting. I've grown rather fond of these rather. More than I should be. I ate about three packs yesterday. Good thing these aren't actual pills. I'd be dead by now." he said, pouring our a rather heavy handful again, filling his mouth with them.

"Are they as good as Vicodin?" Alfred asked, wrapping his arm around Arthur. "Not quite. They're pretty dang close though. I still can't believe you dragged me into going clean with you." Arthur said, a slight pout on his lips.

"Well, if I'm going to have to stop doing drugs, then so are you. Besides, I haven't had any withdrawal symptoms lately. Have you?"

"No, but I think the sweet tooth might be one." Arthur said, a small side comment.

"Well, besides that, you haven't had any real withdrawal symptoms have you? See? If we go through it together, going clean will be painless! Well, almost painless."

"I suppose. I do miss my pills though." Arthur sighed.

"Hey, I miss my morphine. You're not the only one." Alfred reminded.

"Fine, fine. You got me addicted to another thing now though. It's less serious, but it's nothing short of an addiction. I hope you're happy." Arthur said, glowering at Alfred slightly.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I think I've been getting a new addiction too."

"Oh no. What is it now?" Arthur asked, a slight fear of treating Alfred all over again growing in side of him.

Alfred's arms wrapped around the doctor's waist, and his cheek pressed to Arthur's. "I know this might sound kinda sappy, but I think I'm addicted to your kisses."

A blush crept onto Arthur's cheeks as he faked a scoff to hide his embarrassment. "Well that's something I sure don't know how to treat." he kidded.

"Just kiss me once in a while without me making you. And I mean a _real_ kiss. That seems pretty easy to me." Alfred said.

"I'm at work though. I can't just kiss you randomly. That's highly unprofessional. Besides, I thought we were keeping this relationship on the down low." Arthur reminded, smoothing Alfred's hair.

"We are. I just don't want you to be all uptight. And you're _always_ at work Arthur. I practically _live_ in your workplace. Just come visit me and plant one and leave. That'll be my fill."

"Oh, so now I'm going to help contribute to your new addiction? I don't think I should help then." Arthur teased, a light smirk on his lips. Alfred's grip around his wait tightened as if in protest. Arthur laughed again. "Alright, I'll try my best. Just don't be too clingy alright? You'll blow our cover."

"Okay!" Looking like a cheery toddler, Alfred's blue eyes twinkled with excitement, a characteristic that Arthur couldn't help but find completely adorable at times. A soft smile on his lips, Arthur reached out and wrapped his arm around Alfred as well.

"Besides, a little kissing doesn't hurt anyone." Alfred softly sighed, leaning against Arthur.

The two contently sat in silence until Arthur's beeper went off. With a slight groan, the beeper reminded Arthur of that dreaded therapy session that he was suppose to have with the kid that kicked him in the crotch in the past. A slight shudder would hit him from time to time as he remembered that day.

Scooting off the armrest, Arthur brushed himself off. "Well, it looks like I have to leave you for now, love." Arthur declared, walking towards the table to get his things.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Alfred hinted, a smirk on his lips. Turning back around, Arthur noticed that look immediately. Sighing, Arthur retraced his steps and walked back to the American. Leaning in, he briefly allowed for his lips to make contact with Alfred's. He soon pulled back. "There, you happy?" he asked.

"You can do better than that, Arthur. I know you can." Alfred teased.

"Alfred, I need to go. I'll come back right after. Then you can get another fill." Arthur said.

"Mm, fine. But I'll be waiting!" Alfred added. "Of course you will. I gotta go." A quick peck on the cheek, and Dr. Kirkland was back to being Dr. Kirkland.

As Alfred watched him leave, a nurse entered into his room. "Wow, it sure looks like Dr. Kirkland's busy today." she said, fixing Alfred's bed sheets.

"Yeah. I sure hope he doesn't over work himself today though." Alfred sighed, looking out the window.

_My next fill…I never felt this good in such a long time. Ah, Arthur needs to hurry! I need him already._

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__**A/N- **Ah, well, the ending's kinda weak, but I still think this chapter is really cute and fluffy. Whatcha guys think? Blow up my emails with Fanfiction alerts now! I can't wait to hear how you all felt about this chapter. Review, Pm, and all that jazz. Until Next time~! ^w^


	8. It's Hard to Hide the Truth

**A/N- **Wow, I guess I updated sooner than I thought. ^w^ This chapter, my dear readers, leads to a more angsty feel in the series. How angsty? A bit. I wouldn't say I'm the greatest angst writer, but this stuff after this leads to something that's not fluff, so I'm calling it angst because it is something kinda dark...So yeah! I hope you guys like this chapter ^.^ I can't promise that I'll update soon again, but I'll try :)

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia or the brand name Pocky. **

Enjoy~!

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_**Chapter 8**_

_Only Alfred Jones can make Pocky look like something dirty…_ the Briton thought to himself, watching the American innocently eat the biscuit stick.

**…**

After Arthur's session with the patient with Tourette's syndrome (which ended better than the last session), Dr. Kirkland returned to Alfred's room, only to find that Matthew was already in the room visiting his brother.

Sliding the door open, both heads turned, one flashing his signature smile that Arthur loved so much in the past (and still, even today), and the other with a look of…guilt?

Raising an eyebrow at Matthew's guilty look, Arthur shut the door and walked over to the patient's bed. His emerald eyes immediately spotted a red box of those biscuit sticks called Pocky sticking out from under Alfred's pillow. Matthew seemed to blush a bit when Arthur gave him a look.

"Ah, that's alright, Matthew. I'm not one to restrict food in the hospital. I mean, I don't exactly expect you to poison your own brother now." he said, pulling a rolling chair over to Alfred's bedside. Looking down at his clipboard, Dr. Kirkland managed to not see Matthew's slightly offended look.

"Alrighty, Alfred. I believe you and I have another session this evening." Arthur informed his patient, his professional voice in use. Apparently, Alfred didn't get the hint. "Alright, I can't wait~" the American replied, the slightest bit of suggestion in his tone.

Arthur nearly wanted to smack him in the face with the clipboard. Matthew, luckily, didn't seem to catch the tone of the comment. Either that, or he was secretly waiting for the perfect time to lash out later on…

Arthur let out an awkward cough. "Right. So, Matthew, what brings you here today?" Dr. Kirkland asked casually. After the question slipped out though, he felt like kicking himself _Gah, he's here to visit his brother! That was a stupid question…_

"Oh, um, I just wanted to talk with Alfred, you know, find out how he's doing. And…I kinda wanted to talk to you too, Arthur."

The use of his first name in a non threatening manner from the Canadian surprised the Briton for a brief second. After thinking about the sentence for a bit, Arthur decided to answer before Matthew started to feel embarrassed about what he just said.

"Ah, alright. That's alright, Matthew. Um, I don't really have anything bad to say about your brother. He's been doing fine. He's been overcoming the withdrawal symptoms quite nicely actually, better than anyone I've treated. Heh, I think he's even, um, 'inspired' me to cut off my own habit. I feel like an elementary school teacher saying this, but I have nothing bad to say about him. Although…Alfred's been looking a bit loopy today." Arthur noted, tilting his head to get a better look at Alfred's eyes. A somewhat overly content look was evident. Dr. Kirkland immediately thought of two reasons for this.

_I guess I'll figure this out sooner r later. Alfred always was bad at keeping secrets. And the fact that Matthew was so easily manipulated made Alfred's capability to keep things from me harder. _

"Oh, heh, yeah. I noticed that too." Matthew agreed, watching Alfred pull out the red box of Pocky from under his pillow, mauling at the box. "Alfred, there's a tab you pull to open it." Matthew said.

"I know that! I'm being special right now! Heh~" Another raised eyebrow from Dr. Kirkland.

"A-Ah…I'm sorry, Arthur. Alfred was playing with the nitrous oxide." Matthew apologized, glancing at the can of laughing gas in the corner of the room.

Dr. Kirkland chuckled. "Ah~ That's what I thought. What a relief too, to be honest. I thought Alfred got a hold of some morphine or some other drug. Reverse all of that hard work you know? Glad to know it was just a bit of loopy gas." Arthur grinned, reaching for Alfred's box of Pocky and ripping it open for him. After Alfred's effort, the box remained as new as when Matthew gave it to him.

As the American dug in like a hungary teenage boy, Matthew sighed. "Was that what you wanted to talk to me about? About Alfred's carelessly playing with the laughing gas?" Arthur asked.

"N-No. That's not it. Um…I actually wanted to apologize for something else."

"Oh? What is it?"

A slight pause interrupted the smooth conversation. Matthew was silently contemplating on his choice of words. "I…I wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you." The Canadian's normal soft spoken tone returned, and that normal shy aura was back.

"Oh Matthew, you don't have to-"

"N-No. I…I was being a jerk towards you. I mean, I was still mad at you for hurting Alfred, but…I can't be mad at you anymore. You're his doctor now, and whatever you've been doing with him is working. I've never seen him give up on the addiction so easily. And he's keeping it off. I shouldn't have been so harsh on you on the first day. I didn't give you a chance."

The sincere apology was from that rather nice side of Matthew that Arthur was fond of. Mattie was a soft kid at heart, and it was a matter of time before it returned.

"That's very mature of you, Matthew." Arthur said, smiling. Matthew looked up, but his face was far from a smile. "Something wrong still?" Arthur asked.

Another quiet pause. Matthew tried to preoccupy himself with Alfred's munching for the time being. At last, after a quietness that seemed to be testing Arthur's patience, Matthew finally said, "I'm sorry for what Francis did to you."

**…**

_Did Alfred tell? No, that can't be it. He promised he wouldn't. And besides, Matthew hasn't visited in a while. The time doesn't match. How did he-?_

Arthur's hitched breath was a sign that Matthew had struck a sensitive topic. Looking down, Matthew tried to continue the conversation he started as confidently as he could. "I-I'm sorry for bringing it up, but when I heard about what he did to you, I just couldn't be mad at you. That's partially the reason why I gave you a chance. I-I thought Alfred was the only one who got hurt but in all reality, you did too. I feel horrible for being so harsh on you. I'm really sorry, for both my actions and Francis'."

Lost for words, Arthur tried to think of something to say as quickly as he could. The silence stretched out longer, and to the Briton's relief, the Canadian didn't seem to mind the awkward silence. The words slowly stated to sink in, and Arthur finally regained his function of talking.

"H-How…How did you find out?" he asked, his tone low. Glancing over at Alfred for a bit to see if Matthew possibly could have found out from him, Dr. Kirkland found that Alfred was too busy licking the chocolate off the Pocky to be even paying attention to to topic. _Well, Alfred definitely didn't tell..._

"I didn't hear it from Alfred. I…I heard it from Francis himself." Matthew answered.

"But I thought he-?"

"He didn't move. He's…He's actually living close by to where I am." Matthew bit his lip. "A-Actually. That's a lie. He's…He's actually living with me. In my apartment."

Arthur felt his eyes grow a bit wider. "You mean you two _actually_ got together?" he asked, flustered.

"I didn't know he hurt you though! I didn't even know you two went out! I just knew that I saw you with another blonde a few days after you and Alfred broke up. I would have never guessed it would have been Francis! I swear!" Matthew confessed, slightly flustered himself.

The news was a bit too much for the Briton, and the flurry of emotions that was running through him seemed to be hitting an overwhelming point.

"I-I'm really sorry, Arthur." Matthew apologized again, slightly trembling and looking down.

"N-No, it's quite alright, Matthew. Um…Wow, I didn't really expect this."

"It's abrupt I know, but I thought it'd be best if you knew. I was thinking about it for the last few days, and since Alfred wanted me to stop by, I thought I could just talk to you while I'm here."

"That's fine. I-I'm still a bit shaken up about the topic, but…But I appreciate your thought." Dr Kirkland said, crossing his legs. The slight quivering in his voice seemed to be matching how Matthew was feeling.

"A-Alright. If you insist."

"Haha, hey Mattie. You want one?" The American's voice suddenly broke the tense atmosphere that was established. Blinking at the random question, Matthew finally switched from "mature talk with Arthur" mode to "your brother" mode. "Oh…No thanks, Alfred. You shouldn't eat all of them at once you know. You'll get sick." Matthew warned.

"Well I'm already in a hospital. What else could go wrong?" Alfred played. Matthew rolled his eyes. "Fine. Suit yourself." he said, getting up from his seat. "Leaving already, bro?"

"Yeah, I need to get ready for work. I'll come and visit you again soon though. I'll probably bring you back more Pocky if you want." Matthew said, pushing his chair back to the place where he found it.

"Strawberry?" Alfred hoped. "Maybe. I gotta go. See you later, Alfred. Heh, bye Arthur." Matthew dismissed, a shy wave to the other two.

"Bye, bro!" Alfred dismissed. "Bye, Matthew."

And with that, the Canadian slid the door open and walked out, his thin frame disappearing down the hall.

Leaning back in his chair, Arthur sighed. "You look down." Alfred said, taking another Pocky stick out. "Well, when you learn about your ex's new relationship in a random conversation, things get to you." he said.

"That's why I didn't pay attention. Matthew told me a while back who he was dating. I just didn't want to tell you." Alfred admitted, scraping the chocolate off with his teeth.

"Mm..Yes. It was quite mature of him to apologize though. That's what I always liked about your brother." Arthur noted, watching the American eat.

"You were so 'fond' of him." Alfred quoted, a slight roll of the eyes noticeable. Arthur snorted. "Well, I did choose you, didn't I?" he said smugly.

"Of course you did~! Because you love me."

Arthur didn't reply, a classic way to answer that '"because you love me" response Alfred always gave him.

With the patient file in his lap, Arthur sat back in his chair and watched his significant other contently eat his snack. As soon as Alfred proceeded to lick that chocolate off the biscuit, Arthur felt a sudden shiver run up his spine.

_Gah, dirty thoughts._

Turning his head away, Arthur tried to make the feeling go away by focusing on the wall instead. The clock showed 3:30. Arthur had an appointment schedule for 3:45. A slight pang of panic ran through him.

"Oh bloody-!" Arthur shot up from his chair and grabbed his things, kicking the metal folding chair over to the side.

"Are you leaving already?" Alfred whined. "Ah, I think so. Gosh, I always loose track of time when I'm in here with you." Arthur complained. "Don't blame this on me." Alfred nagged.

"I'm not blaming anyone. Ah, I think that's it. Now you stay away from the nitrous oxide alright? That's for the aggressive patients. That's very useful. Don't waste it." Dr. Kirkland warned, his green eyes narrowed warningly.

"Yeah,yeah. I won't."

"Only you would mess with that…" Arthur mumbled, walking in the general direction of the door.

"I'm not the 'only' one. I'm like a little kid. Kids will probably do it too. And aren't you forgetting something?"

Arthur stopped in his tracks. "Forgetting-?" Glancing back, he got the message. "Alfred, I don't have time-"

"Ah, ah, ah. You skipped the last one. Please?" A frustrated groan, Arthur briskly walked back to the bed. "Fine. Pucker up."

"Hang on, lemme finish this last one." Alfred said, biting the Pocky stick. Impatiently tapping his foot, Arthur was just encouraging the American to eat slowly.

_He just loves to test my nerves, that git. _Arthur thought bitterly.

Smiling at how irritated Arthur was becoming, Alfred munched slowly. Only halfway done with his snack, Arthur lost it.

_That's it. My turn._

When Alfred least expected it, Arthur grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from the Pocky stick, the stick still in his mouth. Eyes wide with surprised, Alfred didn't exactly expect to have his "fill" with a piece of Pocky in between his lips still.

Without any hesitation, Arthur jerked the American's arm, pulling him forward. Their lips collided together, and parting his lips, Arthur snapped the stick on half. A slight gasp escaped Alfred when he figure out what had just happened.

Pulling back, Arthur was seen chewing on his newly gain snack while Alfred was in awe, his facial expression a mix between surprise and indignation. Alfred immediately grabbed his box of Pocky and peered inside. "And that was my last one."

"Good. You've had enough sweets for today. I'll see you later alright?" Arthur smirked, walking out.

"Okay. Where'd you learn how to do that anyway?" Alfred asked as Arthur was walking out. "Japanese patient! Next door to you. Kiku. I gotta go, bye!" And with that, Arthur ran out of the room, sliding the door shut before Alfred could slip in another question.

"Bye~"

…

Once on the other side of the door, Arthur sighed a breath of relief. "I finally made it out of there. Hmm..That was actually kinda good. Good kiss and food. Maybe I should ask Matthew to buy Alfred two boxes." Arthur thought to himself.

Walking down the hall a few steps, Arthur stopped in his tracks once again when a familiar smooth voice called out to him.

"_Ohhonhon~ _You naughty little Briton, Arthur. I never thought I'd see you be so unprofessional on the job."

Arthur's pulse suddenly spiked, and a cold sweat ran down his neck. _Just keep walking. Just keep walking!_

Footsteps were trailing behind him though. Walking wouldn't get him anywhere in this situation. _No…No, he's not here. It can't be him!_

But, a sudden urge to turn around hit the doctor. Slowly, and reluctantly, Dr. Kirkland turned on his heels. Vibrant blue eyes, almost like Alfred's, met his greens ones, a slight wink in them.

Arthur's voice seemed to disappear again, and his knees were threatening to buckle.

"It's been quite a while, Arthur~ Did you miss me?"

* * *

**A/N- **Ah~ Another cameo. I'm pretty sure you guys know what's gonna happen next ;3 Well, I really hope I can update soon. This story isn't going to die anytime soon, so don't give up on it just because I don't update. I'm not sure how many chapters this story is gonna ave either ._. I guess we'll just see in the end ^.^ Thanks for reading you guys! Until next time~! Bai!


	9. Invitation

**A/N- **Oh my glob...I feel terrible. I couldn't even manage to put out an adequate number of chapters for this story this entire summer D: I'm so sorry for the long wait you guys. I did say I would be gone, but even _I _ didn't' think I'd be gone for that long ._. I've tried writing, but I haven't had time because of summer work, and I didn't get that same feeling anymore. So I apologize (Like I'm REALLY sorry Dx) to you all, and I'm really glad that you guys still stuck with me. This chapter was originally planned longer, but I thought you guys should have something to read before summer is over. This chapter is innocent enough, but I promise you, there is something in store for the next chapter, and I'm sure you guys are gonna be quite mad at me for it. xD No, no one's gonna die. I'm not that cruel. But let's just say France's true personality does come out in the next chapter. Hey, it's writing. Something's gotta happen to give it that little kick ;)

Okay, I'm gonna stop talking now ^.^

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia~!**

Enjoy lovelies, and again, I'm terribly sorry D:

* * *

_**Chapter 9**_

_I'm starting to really hate visitors now…_

…

A stiffness overcame the rather short Briton as he stared at his unexpected guest. No urged to talk or quarrel came over him. Instead, a fear washed over his entire body. One simple fight changed his view on the Frenchman completely, and even after these few years, his perspective remained the same.

"Oh Arthur, you look a bit pale. Are you alright?" the blonde asked, a note of concern in his voice. Whether it was sincere or not was unknown to the Briton. Even though his body was becoming stiff with fright, he was certainly not off his guard. The small gap between him and Francis was a comfortable distance, and when Francis took one step forward, Arthur immediately felt the distance shrink. Instinctively, he took a step back, his nerves a bit shaky.

"W-What are you doing here?" the doctor asked his guest nervously, his gaze switching from the ground to those blue eyes.

"Oh Arthur, don't be like that. You know I'm friends with one of your patients don't you?" Dr. Kirkland's eyes widened a bit. "Y-You are?"

"_Oui~ _Gilbert's still a friend of mine whether he's in the hospital or not." Francis noted. A slight relief hit Arthur.

_Oh, right. I have more patients than just Alfred. H-Heh…Get it together Arthur!_

"O-Oh right. I forgot about that."

"Mm, well I can't blame you. It's been a while since I've visited."

"Y-Yeah. It has been." _And I wish it would be longer…_

"And when Matthew told me about his brother being here, I thought what perfect time to visit Gilbert than now, non?"

A stiff nod from Arthur. "And then I ran into you. So tell me, what have you been up to?" Francis asked, a knowing sparkle in his eyes. The abrupt moment to think of a lie made Arthur stumble on his words. "Well, I, um, you know, the usual." he blurted out quickly, his eyes glued to the ground.

_Gah, that sucked!_

"Oh come now, _mon cheri~ . _You can tell me about Alfred. I won't tell Matthew." the Frenchman smirked. A slight blush overcame Dr. Kirkland. "I-It's not exactly what you-" Arthur was interrupted by Francis' chuckle.

"I know love when I see it, Arthur. And that was it. It's alright, really. It seems as though we both found a different partner." Francis said. The rigidness in the Briton was started to slowly soften. "A-Ah, I suppose so. Um, so how are things with you and Matthew then?"

"Oh, well, you know. The usual. Things are getting there."

"Getting there? I thought you two were together." Arthur pointed out, slightly furrowing his thick eyebrows in confusions.

"Mm~ Not quite. It seems as though Matthew and I are having a small lovers quarrel. Things aren't going as smoothly as I hoped, but like I said, they're getting there."

"Oh. Well, I hope things go well between you two then." Arthur declared, trying to be polite towards the situation.

"I do too." The Frenchman's eyes were fixed down the hall, a half smile on his face. Arthur imitated his visitor's position, and immediately understood the situation.

Walking up the hall was a distressed Matthew. "Francis, we need to go now."

"Oh? So soon?"

"Apparently, I was scheduled for the early shift, but I didn't get any notices about it beforehand."

"Ha, figures. Typical Americans. Go ahead and go downstairs. I'll meet you by the elevators okay?"

"Don't take too long alright?"

"Of course not. I'll see you in a little bit." A gentle kiss on the forehead dismissed the Canadian. With a slight rosy tint on his fair skin, Matthew walked off, retracing his steps back to the elevators.

"Such a sweet boy." Francis grinned, his fondness of his Canadian friend expressed openly.

As Francis admired his partner from afar, Arthur was trying to juggle al of the things in his hands. Then a sudden realization hit him. "Oh no!" he snapped. A slight panic overtook him.

"Something wrong?" Francis asked, turning around. "I-I have a patient I was suppose to see. I lost track of time."

"Oh, well I wouldn't want you to be too late."

"Y-Yeah. Sorry for for the odd timing, but I guess I'll see you later Francis." Just before Arthur could take off and sprint down the hall like he usually did when he was late, the French accent called him back.

"Hang on a minute, Arthur. There's one more thing I want to ask you." The Briton froze in mid sprint, his balance slightly throw off.

_Dang it, what does he want now?_

Recollecting himself and positioning his body in a more natural position, Arthur turned around, a fake "Okay, I have time. I'm not late for anything." expression on his face. The expression slowly melted into something more sincere when he saw Francis's hurt look.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, his voice hinting worry.

"Ah~ There was actually another reason why I wanted to come here." A thick eyebrow was raised. "Really now?"

"Yes. I…I wanted to apologize. I know Matthew already told you, but I think a personal one from me would be more effective."

The reality of what just happened hit Arthur like a ton of bricks. "Y-You're apologizing?"

"_Oui_~ It was an honest accident, Arthur. You know I'm not a fighter. I'm just a bit rough at times. Especially when we're fighting. You must know that, _cheri. _That night was just a bad day. And I honestly do feel guilty about it. It's been eating my alive. So, I was wondering if you would like to go out for a drink after work? Something to bridge that gap between us? I'd thought a more personal apology would be better than one from Matthew."

A slight hesitation choked Arthur's voice from answering. A slight frown overcame Francis' lips, curving them down instead of their usual up curve.

"Um, I-I dunno if I can. Is it just us?" Arthur asked, dreading the reply to that. "Of course not. Matthew's tagging along as well. I didn't think you would feel comfortable alone with me. So what do you say?"

Idly standing in the middle of the hall, Arthur tried to really think this through. Whether it was the pressure of being late to yet another session, or the fact that Alfred had made Arthur too nice, the Briton nodded in agreement. "A-Alright. I'll go."

Francis's expression seemed to light up. "You will?" Arthur nodded again. "Splendid~! I'll swing by the hospital again to pick you up?" Francis asked.

"I'll have to go home first." Arthur pointed out. "Of course. I'll be waiting in the front for you when you come back. That sound like a plan?"

"I suppose so." Arthur replied with a weak grin. "Great. I'll see you later, Arthur~!"

And with that, the tall Frenchman walked down the hall, his steps following those of his Canadian partner's from before.

Watching him leave, Arthur felt a sudden lightness. "Gah, I'm glad that was over." A beeping from his pager returned Arthur to reality and made him remember why he was standing in the middle of a hall. The minute his brain registered the word "Session", his feet took off and down the hall he ran.

A loud slamming of the door echoed throughout the eighth floor of the hospital when Arthur reached his destination.

…

"He asked you _what?" _ the American shouted. "Alfred, calm down. The walls here are thin."

"I don't care about that! He asked you _out?_" Alfred shouted, his indignation clear.

"No! W-Well, yes. But then again no. Alfred, it's an apology."

"Doesn't matter! If he wants to apologize then let him just send you roses and candy! He's a romantic. He should be an expert at these things!"

"Alfred, he was being nice." Arthur claimed, his voice showing signs of desperation in trying to calm down his partner.

"Arthur, he's trying to do something. Can't you see that? He's probably planning something."

"Alfred, he was sincerely sorry. I've never seen him that affected by anything before."

"That's because he was _acting! _He does that to get what he wants! That son of a-_" _

"Alfred!" The Briton's sudden increase in volume in his voice caught the American off guard.

"Francis was being nice. He actually felt bad about busting up my hip. If you think otherwise, then fine. But I already said yes, and it'd be rude of me to cancel now when he was looking forward to it. And besides, Matthew's coming. It's not just us."

A huff of agitation from Alfred, the American submitted to his boyfriend's request despite what his over protective instincts were telling him. "Fine. You win. Just don't drop your guard. You know what he did to you." Alfred stated coldly.

"Of course I do. Goodness, Alfred, you're starting to sound like Matthew from a while back." Arthur notified, his face showing signs of discomfort.

"I'm just making sure. Don't be alone with him either. He'll probably grope you or something."

"Alfred!' Arthur objected.

"He probably will! It's in his character! Don't deny that, Arthur!"

Sighing, Arthur simply nodded his agreement to Alfred's conditions. "Fine. I won't be alone with him. Or I'll try not to."

"Arthur…" the America warned. "Well I have to be alone with him when he's picking me up probably! And he's driving me home. You know how I am when I'm drunk." Arthur reminded.

"What about him? He drinks too."

"Francis is actually a better driver when he's drunk then when he's sober. He doesn't even act drunk. It's an odd thing to explain actually. I never got it…" Arthur admitted, breaking his gaze away from the upset American to the ground.

"Ah. Of course. I never understood him either. Just…Just promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"I find that offensive, Alfred. I should be saying that to you. But if it'll reassure you, then fine. I'll try to keep my guard up as much as possible."

A small grin appeared on Alfred's tensed face. "Thank you."

"You know, you're the last person I'd expect to be protective."

"Well of course I'd get worked up over this! Why _wouldn't_ I get worked up about this?"

Sighing yet again, Arthur leaned back in his chair. "I don't know, Alfred. I just never thought I'd see you serious about something."

"I was serious about our break up. And I was serious when I spilled my entire life to you. And I was serious when-"

"Alright, alright. I get it." Arthur chuckled, glad his companion was back to his silly self. "See? I can be serious." Alfred smiled.

"Yes. Very serious."

"Yep! Just like how you can be _very_ fun." Alfred hinted, smirking.

"No, Alfred. Not today. I already have enough on my mind." Arthur exhaled, crossing his legs.

"Aw, don't be like that. I know how you can be~" Alfred pressed, trying to crack down Arthur's stubborn conservative wall.

"No, Alfred. I'm not in the mood for that." Arthur huffed, his stubbornness not budging. A disappointed pout appeared on the American after sensing that one more attempt would lead to his partner's departure. "Fine. Be like that…" Alfred appeased reluctantly.

A daunting silence filled Alfred's room. The jittery American tried to hide his anticipation, but the nagging thought simply wouldn't go away without being satisfied. Biting his lip, Alfred contemplated the best way to get his fill.

Arthur, on the other hand, was contently scribbling on the side of Alfred's patient chart. He was always the "interesting" doctor at the hospital. The nurses manage to keep separate copies of important documents just in case Dr. Kirkland and his pen found their way to them. Being at the hospital for so long literally gave everyone a chance to adapt to his unconventional ways.

Lost in his thought about this evenings plans, Arthurs gave a terrible start when Alfred suddenly shouted in pain. "Ow!"

Barely realizing what was going on, Arthur hastily got to his feet and was by Alfred's bedside in a split second. "Alfred, what's wrong?" Dr. Kirkland asked exasperatedly.

"Ah! It's my side. I-It's- ah!" The American's pained groans were starting to make Arthur extremely worried. The usual laid back atmosphere of this side of the hospital had slowed Arthur's quick reflexes, and the Briton had to get his mind back in gear.

Seeing as how Alfred was clutching his lower abdomen desperately, Arthur decided to check to see if anything internal was starting to develop.

Pushing Alfred's hand to the side, Arthur cupped his hand on the allegedly pained area, pressing down on it gently. "Right here?" Arthur asked, applying more pressure.

Biting his bottom lip again, Alfred nodded, a slight whimper slipping out. "Gah, you probably got a cramp from something." Dr. Kirkland mumbled, pressing down on the surrounding area some more. With his attention focused on his patient's problem, Arthur managed to miss the American's expression change from a pain grimace, to a sly smirk.

"I can't seem to find anything wrong, Alfred." Arthur sighed, confused on the lack of evidence to the pain. Seeing as how Arthur's hand was still on his side, Alfred decided that it was the perfect time to put his short notice plan into action. "Oh? My mistake~"

An abrupt change in character caught the doctor off guard. His wrist was suddenly grabbed by his "pained" patient, and before he could process anything, the relatively light doctor was hoisted from the ground and flipped onto the bed. Hands pressed Arthur's wrists down against the mattress, and a weight was felt over his lower body.

Blue eyes and a smug smirk, Alfred seemed satisfied with how his plan was executed.

Understanding everything now, a surge of indignation filled the Briton. "Alfred you _idiot! " _

"Hmm? What did I do?" Alfred asked innocently, lowering his frame down.

_"_I was actually worried about you, you ungrateful-" His breath suddenly hitched as a soft brushing sensation was felt at his neck. "Ungrateful what, Arthur?" Alfred prodded airily. As Alfred proceeded to tease the Briton with kisses too soft at the neck, Arthur began to lose the point of his rant.

_"_Y-You ungrateful- A-Ah!' A sharp yet pleasurable pain struck him unexpectedly , cutting his sentence off. One nip at the collar sent Arthur into a frenzy, his body squirming under Alfred.

A rather embarrassing flush tinted the Briton's skin as the American's tongue passed over the fresh bite marks. "A-Alfred…" Dr. Kirkland begged, trying to push the larger American off.

"Don't do let that Frenchman do anything shady now because you're mine. Mine, and only mine."

…

"Have a safe night, Dr. Kirkland~!' Feliciano dismissed, waving as Arthur passed. "Thank you, Feli. You too."

The rush of cool air from the night stung Arthur's cheeks as he exited the hospital. The night seemed to be calm despite the heavy traffic nearby. The calmness of nature seemed to clash heavily with Arthur's emotions, however.

Francis was soon expected later in the evening, and Arthur had no intentions on canceling, but something in him was starting to nag him to do what he intended not to do. Maybe it was the fact that Alfred threw a fit when he found out. Maybe because it was the aches he was experiencing from a long day's work. Maybe it was the fresh marks of "ownership" that Alfred had affectionately left on his fair skin.

_For crying out loud. He's worse than a teenager. I thought hormones were suppose to be at a more manageable level now. Gah…_

Hobbling to his car, Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit rushed. Francis didn't specify a time, but Arthur didn't want to keep him waiting too long either. That would just be rude. Instead, Arthur was planning on rushing home and getting ready immediately.

The ride home was incredibly short, shorter than usual, most likely because the Briton was speeding through the calm roads. The ride from hospital to his apartment seemed like a completely waste of gas money considering the length, but with that messed up leg of his, Arthur couldn't managed to walk that far. Unless of course he had some sudden burst of determination. But he wasn't the type to run anyway, so that option seemed far from his interest.

The keys tinkered lightly as Arthur searched for his apartment key. Spotting it out of the cluster, he proceeded to unlock the door and enter his cramped quarters.

His bag and usual work clothes were immediately thrown to the side. Unbuttoning his shirt, Arthur limped over to his dresser, rummaging in for a decent shirt. The contents of the drawer was near empty. The pile of dirty laundry in the corner however was escalating rapidly. The thought of doing chores made him wrinkle his nose.

_I must do that later…I'm starting to run out of things to wear. _

After finding a decent shirt at the very bottom of the drawer and a pair of pants that could go one more day, Arthur stripped off his clothes entirely and quickly changed. After struggling to untangle himself from his clothes and actually get dressed, he was ready.

He tossed his work clothes into the mountain in the corner of his room and grabbed the last of his essentials. _Wallet, phone, keys…Is that it? Oh…Right._

Arthur glanced at his bedside table. His faithful cane that he relied on in the past was leaning against the wooden table patiently waiting for its owner like it did early every morning. Biting his lip, Arthur contemplated on whether or not he should grab it. Recently, he somehow managed to get along fine without the cane. Sure, pain was still there, but it wasn't killing him like in the past. Strange indeed. The entire ordeal would have been labeled as a miracle if Arthur believed in such things.

Sensing that he was wasting precious time staring at a wall an letting his mind wander, the stubborn Brit made a last minute grab and hobbled out of his apartment and back to his car.

…

"Ah, you made it." Francis beamed upon seeing Arthur walk up to the front door. Compared to Francis' nice clothes for such a casual occasion, Arthur felt slightly on the inferior side, a side he was rarely on.

_Laundry. Main priority when I get home._

"Haha, yep. Here I am. So, am I going to leave my car here?" Arthur asked, still foggy on what the plan exactly was. "Of course. I'll bring you back when the night's over. Sound alright to you?"

"Ah, I suppose that's alright. No need for two cars here. Where's Matthew?" the Briton asked, following behind Francis as they walked over to his car. "He's driving straight to the bar right after work. Some last minute paper work I suppose." Francis explained, pulling out his keys to unlock he doors.

As he heard the car door unlock, Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit reluctant about going in a car with Francis. Silly worries ran through his head, a side effect from his talk with Alfred.

_"Don't be alone with him either. He'll probably grope you or something_."

The American's sentence seemed to have shaken up the paranoia in the already borderline mental doctor. Still a bit on the nervous side, Arthur reached out and pulled the car door open. The nice interior of the vehicle seemed to calm his nerves a bit. The familiarity of things brought back pleasant memories from their early friendship, before the Briton and Frenchman stated dating. Feeling more comfortable, Arthur put one leg into the car carefully, pulling the door and his other leg closely behind the first.

As Arthur adjusted himself to the seat and tried to find a place for his cane, Francis glanced over and watched the movements of his former partner. Sincere guilt washed through him, but he promised himself that tonight would be the night that everything would be right again.

Sighing to himself, the Frenchman placed his hand on the gearshift and put the vehicle into drive.

…

"O-Oh, hello, Arthur." the timid Canadian greeted upon their arrival to the bar. Seeing as how Francis didn't lie about Matthew being with them seemed to have made Arthur feel a bit more comfortable about the entire outing. A weak smile spread on his face and his features began to soften up. "Hello, Matthew. It's been a while since you've stopped by to visit your brother." Arthur noted, pulling out a chair from the bar.

"Heh, yeah. I've been to caught up in work lately. I stopped by today, but it was really short, so I didn't get to talk to him much. Is Alfred still doing alright?"

"Oh yes. He's doing very well. No sign of serious withdrawal symptoms yet. Yes, sir…Still very active." Arthur told him, rubbing his neck slightly at the area of his new love bite. Alfred was smart enough to not do it in plain sight, but it had a tendency to peek out into view here and there.

On the other side of him, Arthur heard Francis playfully scoff, a hand hiding his laughter. "What's wrong, Francis?" Matthew asked. Shaking his head, Francis tried to calm his grin down. "It's nothing. Don't mind me." he insisted. The Frenchman's blue eyes suddenly, glanced upto Arthur and where his hand was placed. The realization suddenly hit the Briton.

_He saw it….Oh bloody-_

A flushed color ran to Arthur's cheeks, and he immediately looked down, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Chuckling one last time at his friend, Francis decided to save Arthur a teasing for once. "How about we start the drinks, hm?"

A unison agreement from the other two signified the start of the night out.

* * *

**A/N- **Yeah, nothing much in this chapter. Like I said, I had to cut it short. And I will apologize now. I have school starting soon, and I have to go to this boot camp thing later this week, so there is a pretty good chance that I won't be able to write again soon. I probably won't disappear as long as I did before, but I will be gone again. SO MUCH STUFF! DX But I really do appreciate you guys for reading and sticking with the story ^-^ Anywho~! Thanks fore reading, and until next time, lovelies~!


	10. Hot and Cold

**A/N- **I'm finally back~! Oh my gosh, I miss writing so much. I don't even know how I managed to fit this chapter in! School has literally been eating up al of my time. I don't have time to do anything anymore. I'm stressed, and I'm tried, but you know, I guess writing does really help with everything. I just miss how I had free time before...Eh, what can you do? Anyway, I'm back, and I'm sure you all were anxious to fin out what happened to Arthur and Francis. Well...I can tell you right now, some (or maybe most) of you aren't going to like it :P But it's what I was planning on doing, so I carried it out. I guess you all finally get that angst you all have been waiting for :3

**Disclaimer- I DO NOT own Hetalia.**

Enjoy, lovelies~!

* * *

_**Chapter 10**_

"What's wrong, Francis?" Arthur asked, noticing the Frenchman's unusual quietness. With a finger tracing the rim of his glass, Francis did seem to give off a rather gloomy vibe.

"Hm? Oh, don't mind me Arthur. I just had a long day." Francis replied, his gaze directed at the Canadian at the other end of the bar. Gesticulating wildly and shouting at the flat screen T.V, Matthew was absorbed in a hockey game. Surrounded by fellow fans of the sport, the borderline muted Canadian certainly found his voice.

"Oh. Are you sure? You seem like you're thinking about something. Is something bothering you?" Arthur asked, still worried about his friend's condition.

With his gaze still glued to his partner, Francis slowly put down his glass and exhaled. "It's a long story. I don't want to burden you with my silly little problems."

"I don't mind. If something's wrong, you can always tell me." A soft chuckle was audible from the Frenchman.

"Such a gentleman, Arthur. Makes me feel a bit worse about hurting you to be honest…"

"Oh, stop it. The whole point of this was an apology wasn't it? Now, I might not be quite ready to forgive and forget just yet, but that doesn't mean I hate you or anything."

"Well of course not. I didn't expect you to necessarily _hate_ me…"

"Right. So what's the matter then?"

A slight pause was inserted between the question and the response. A reoccurring sigh was heard before the answer.

"It's just…I feel as though me and Matthew are hitting a small bump in our relationship…" A raised eyebrow from the Briton showed the man's confusion. "What do you mean? You two are a great couple."

"That's what I thought. But it seems as though there's a rift between us. We were extremely close before, don't get me wrong. It was true love. But now…Now I feel as though we're not a true couple anymore."

Taking a small sip to stall, Arthur contemplated on the issue.

_Well that's odd…Then again, Matthew has been acting a bit strange lately, _he thought, his eyes shifting towards the Canadian.

The game on the television was wrapping up, and the fans clearly were upset and close to throwing a fit. A few of the bartenders were watching the cluster carefully, their senses alert for any signs of a bar fight.

Putting his glass down, Arthur finally decided to reply. "What do you mean by 'not a true couple' exactly?"

"I feel as though it's not about true romance anymore. That might just be me, but I feel like it's a…Ah, what was it? A friends with benefits relationship? It's quite complicated actually…"

"A friends with benefits? That seems really out of character for someone like Matthew." A slight grin appeared on Francis' lips. "You would think that, but that boy is something special. But that doesn't really explain why our relationship's been getting a big distant. Maybe it's the work? Maybe it's just a small phase? Or maybe…Maybe the spark has died out."

"Now don't say that. You two are perfect for each other." As the cliche phrase slipped out of his mouth, Arthur knew he had gotten himself into some sort of trouble. Right on cue, the Frenchman glanced up, his blue eyes shining a bit.

"Optimistic for once, Arthur? Seems like your little 'hero' did manage to loosen you up." he grinned, a playful note in his voice. "Oh hush. I-It's not like that."

"Isn't it? To be honest, I'm quite glad you two are back together. It seems as though you're quite happy with him."

Strangely, a cold note was picked up. Whether it was a figment of his imagination or not, Arthur couldn't decided. Glancing up, Arthur only managed to see Francis stare off into the distance dreamily at Matthew who was gathering his things and breaking away from the crowd. His flushed cheeks signified that the game was a heated one.

"Another lost? Or did they finally break their streak?" Francis asked casually,, making direct eye contact with Matthew.

"Lost. I swear, I had a feeling they were going to win this time." he huffed, putting on his jacket. "Well there's always next game." Arthur attempted to comfort, a sheepish smile on his face.

"I guess. Well, I better get going." Matthew sighed. "Already?" Francis asked, a slight disappointment on his features. "Yeah. I have to get up early tomorrow for work. That, and I need to stop by the office to finish up some last minute paper work. It was nice of you for inviting me though. I'll see you back home." A quick peck on the cheek acted as a dismissal between the partners, and after a small awkward wave to dismiss the Englishman, Matthew was off.

As the night continued on, the crowd dispersed, and the drinks began to slow. The first yawn from the Briton was a signal to the two friends that it was about time to wrap the night up and leave. After the tab was paid, the two made their way out into the brisk night.

Searching for Francis' car, Arthur didn't notice his companion's strange behavior from behind. A tensed aura took over the Frenchman, his body stiff and showing signs of restraint.

"Do you see your car anywhere, Francis?" Arthur asked, his eyes still scanning the parking lot. The Briton's voice seemed to have loosen up the tension that was forming around Francis.

"Ah, I believe it's over here somewhere." Francis managed to reply nonchalantly, his voice struggling to stay at a normal level.

"I don't- Oh! I see it now. Silly me…" The two continued off until they reached the vehicle. The jingling of keys and the beep of the car as it unlocked resonated in the still night.

"It's really humid out here don't you think?" Arthur asked, looking up at the pitch black sky. A wave of clouds obscured the shining moon, adding an eerie feeling to the surroundings.

"I think there's suppose to be rain in the forecast today." Francis noted.

"Well then, we better get home before it starts pouring then." Arthur added lightheartedly. With the doors unlocked, Francis took the lead and opened the passenger side of the door before Arthur could reach out for the handle. "Oh. Well thank you."

Taking a seat inside, the Briton managed to get comfortable. When he was about to put on his seatbelt, he sensed something odd. The breeze from outside could still be sensed on his skin. Looking up, Arthur noticed that the door to his side wasn't closed yet. With Francis still standing by the door holding it open, Arthur frowned and looked up with great concern.

"Is everything alright, Francis? You're acting a bit…Strange."

Hand still gripping the side of the door, the tension returned to the companion. A response was never expressed out of him. Blue eyes set on the Arthur's green ones, the Frenchman was displaying a very unusual side of him. Confused by what was happening, the Briton's guard was let down, and before he could ask again about his friend's current state, a chain of actions overwhelmed him.

The door closed in one swift movement. A warmth and slight weight was felt around the Briton's lower half. A hand reached for the lever behind the seat, and with one pull, Arthur's chair leaned back, allowing the man on top to have perfect control.

"F-Francis! What are you-?"

A press against the lips silenced the submissive one, and a slight nip at his bottom lip only enhanced the fact that he was being controlled at the time. The jacket was unzipped, and the cold air from inside the car nipped the skin underneath Arthur's thin shirt. A hand slipping underneath the Briton's shirt gave him goosebumps as the warmth contrasted sharply with the chilled skin. Wriggling from the sensation, Arthur tried to pull himself away from the source, a difficult thing to do especially in this position.

The familiar kiss from so long ago only brought back memories from his old relationship with Francis. The feeling that felt so satisfying before turned into a feeling that stung and burned. A sinking feeling in the Briton confirmed that the entire situation was more than he could handle.

As the hand traced Arthur's side, every little curve on his abdomen, the Briton felt a shiver run up his spine, a feeling that he dreaded, a feeling he knew was wrong but couldn't help. Protest was choked in his throat, but with a French kisser currently dominant, it seemed impossible for them to be heard. Finally, after one last forced motion, the Frenchman broke apart to breath, Arthur's only brief chance to speak out.

Panting, he spat out his question. "W-What are you doing?" he asked. What he thought would come out strong and firm fumbled and came out shaky. When he picked up the slightly wavering tone, the leading male couldn't help but smirk.

"I'm a complex person. You should know that, Arthur. I have feelings for quite a few people. Sure, I have Matthew, and I simply adore him to pieces, but as you know, our relationship is crumbling. How long will iit last? That's hard to determine. But with this lack of affection between us, I don't believe it'll last long. So I'm doing the same thing you did. Rebounding. That's what I was for you wasn't I? A rebound?"

It was a truth that he couldn't deny. Taken aback, Arthur hesitated to reply. When he managed to get his voice back, stuttering words only came out.

"B-But that doesn't- Ah!" A slight pressure was pressed onto the Briton's crotch, a feeling that brought pain and guilty pleasure to the situation. Biting him bottom lip sharply to avoid any misleading sounds, Arthur was silenced by a single movement.

"But nothing, Arthur. I've seen how you act around that American. You can't imagine how I feel when I think back to our old relationship compared to how things are now. You can't imagine how much I miss how we were before that accident. Even with Matthew, that sweet boy, around, I can't help but feel guilty, no matter what. Imagine how things would have been if it never happened? We still would have been together."

"But it did happened and we're not!" shouted the Briton, struggling underneath the Frenchman's pinning arms.

The statement made Francis pause, but it certainly didn't discourage his intentions. "You're right. But that doesn't mean I've forgotten about the past."

The knee at his crotch increased the force and a heated feeling was starting to form around Arthur's lower region. Nails scratching gently down his side sent another wave of goosebumps on his skin. A gentle brush agains his neck increased his heart rate, and a staggered breathing was a result as he was trying to keep his hormones in check.

Each little touch gave him a feeling. The dominant one remembered everything from the past: every little spot on the Briton that made him whimper, every little touch that made him moan. A feeling of desperation enveloped the Arthur as he desperately tried to turn his body away, trying to avoid the risk.

Pleasure was starting to build, and the Briton struggled to control it. He felt a hand trail down from his side to his belt.

"F-Francis…" he pleaded, sensing the direction this was going. The response was a pull at his belt, the leather strap loosening. Panic rushed into the veins of the Briton.

_No…No. I won't let you. You're not who I want…__You're not who I want!_

_SMACK!_

The sound of flesh against flesh rang out into the silent night. The hurried rustling of fabric quickly followed. The car door was kicked open with a forceful shove, and a pair of feet clumsily thumped onto the pavement in an unsteady, desperate landing.

Freed from the vehicle, Arthur managed to finally break away from the source. His hand stung from the impact, and his pants formed little clouds in the chilly air. His senses perked from the brisk air, and the contrast from the heat in the car to the cool air of nature made his cheeks burned. A downpour soaked through his clothes.

Balancing himself out, the Briton recollected himself, and a brief moment of confusion clouded his mind. His eyes moved from the ground upwards, and they immediately made contact with him. A stinging red cheek on Francis' fair skin could be seen even in the darkness.

Desperation overtook Arthur's senses yet again, and without saying another word, he took off.

…

Footsteps splashed blindly on the watered-down sidewalk. Completely ignorant of his injury that he was burdened with, he kept running. Running to where wasn't important at the time.

Emotions drained completely out of him. Warm tears that flowed down his cold cheeks mixed with the rain that contributed to the blinding of his sight. Indignation, hurt, and fear was all he could feel.

After running into a nearby neighborhood, the Briton finally decided to let his feet stop. Breathless, he took his jacket and angrily wiped away the tears, attempting to gain back his composure. After his vision cleared, the fragile Briton looked around his surroundings. A yellow bus stop caught his attention through the curtain of rain. The unfamiliar landscape around him told him that he was far from being home. An engine suddenly echoed in the night. Looking up, Arthur saw a city bus pull up right in front of him.

The door swung open, and a friendly face greeted him. "Are you riding?" the driver asked politely. Mind jumbled, the question didn't make any sense. Suddenly, after regaining his mind, he nodded. Hobbling up the steps cautiously, Arthur peered inside the bus. It was empty except for a few straggling passengers in the back.

"I'm on my last stop, so you're pretty luck to have caught a bus at this hours. What were you doing in the rain anyway? You'll catch a cold if you keep this up. " the driver said, extending his hand out for money.

Ignoring the comment, Arthur dug around in his pocket and pulled out an uncounted amount and handed it over. "You can keep the change." he told the driver, and with that, Arthur took a seat by himself.

…

_I'm finally home…_

The atmosphere in his small apartment seemed distant. Everything seemed changed after his outing…

Closing the door behind him, Arthur sighed and walked t his room. With every step he took, his joints seemed to creak, and his clothes seemed to squish. He was finally aware of the shooting pain that he had caused himself. Pushing himself until he was safely in his room, the Briton stripped off his wet clothes, indifferent at the fact that his home was about ten degrees too cold to be walking around in bare and damp flesh.

As he took off his shirt, vivid memories of earlier that night crossed his mind. Shaking his head as if that would make the thought disappear, Arthur tossed his clothes into the hamper and made a beeline to the bathroom. Flicking the dim lights on, he took off his pants and entered the shower. Turning on the cold water to full blast, the Briton stepped in. The frigid water rolled down his skin, and with vicious scrubbing motions, Arthur attempted to cleanse himself from the sinful, dirty feeling that Francis left him with. Anger began to flare again, and he could feel another wave of tears come. Feeling as though even scrubbing himself raw wouldn't do any good, he finally gave up and leaned against the tiled wall of the shower.

Pain from his hip mixed in with the intensity of the night drained him completely. Running a stressed hand through his hair, Arthur tried to think of a solution. What did he need at the moment? What was the solution to everything in the past? What was…

_Of course…_

The water was turned off, and wet feet walked from the tiled bathroom floor to the carpeted on in the apartment. WIth water still dripping off his limbs, Arthur made his way to his desolate closet. His eyes saw a ripped pair of jeans, and without even bothering to dry himself off, Arthur slapped them on right after putting on a pair of boxers underneath. A dirty t-shirt from his hamper clothed his upper half, and after scrambling to make himself publicly acceptable when it came to being clothed, he was out again.

The rain had dwindled to mere sprinkles, and this allowed the doctor to completely his mission much faster. The burning pain that was being exerted from his side only encouraged him to act faster. His nerves were shaking, and it seemed as though the world was testing him.

The journey to the hospital was one that certainly tested his endurance of pain. He couldn't help but be silently thankful that he only lived five minute away from the building. Upon entering his section of the workplace, the usual hustle and bustle during the day had diminished to a serene environment. The harsh fluorescent lights that he despised during the day were dimmed down, and the halls from that point on were dark.

With mental patients on either side of the hall, Arthur knew he must be as silent as possible. The staff were all in the lounge at this time, only coming out when called by a late night patient or emergency. With the halls cleared of any staff, his mission was becoming extremely easier. Slipping past the sleeping patients, Arthur walked down to the end of the hall. Stopping at the elevator, the doctor sensed that his nerves were becoming restless when he stopped, a feeling that only seemed the make matters worse.

Opposed to the idea of standing still in an elevator with that feeling, the doctor decided to take the stairs. As each floor past by him, the anticipation was growing. His problems were about to be solved…

Finally reaching the correct floor, Arthur flung open the door. The pharmaceutical section of the hospital greeted him immediately. The lack of staff on this floor made the doctor conclude that it was past hours.

_Doesn't matter…I have a key._ he thought to himself.

A metal gate separated him from his pleasurable relief. Pulling out his ring of keys, the doctor fumbled with them until he found the right one. His nerves were giving out, and his hands started to shake. Miraculously, his hand was able to steady itself long enough for him to unlock the gate. With a twist of the wrist, the gate was unlocked and was soon ripped open, a cacophonous sound ringing in the silent hospital.

His memory of where the pharmacist kept his precious medicine was extremely clear, and without hesitation, Arthur ran to the section. Desperately looking for the familiar bottle, he spilled medicine bottles after medicine bottles without any regard to their importance. Finally, what he was looking for was in sight.

WIth shaky hands, grabbed his precious Vicodin. With his unstable nerves preventing him from opening the prescription bottle, a slight irritation made him curse under his breath. A satisfying pop of the cap from the prescription bottle was pure music the the doctor. The pills spilled out into the palm on the doctor's hand.

The sweetness of these pills going down his throat was just too good of a feeling for him to wait any longer. As his muscles readied themselves for the familiar "popping of the pills" motion, a hand clasped over his, preventing any further movement.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" a voice hissed. Shocked by his visitor, Arthur froze. Baby blue eyes, worry and concern in them, stared into his hungry greens ones. The comforting warmth from his rightful lover drained the craving right out of him.

"I-I…Alfred I…" The joy of having the American close to him was a feeling that was better than the Vicodin could give. It was a real feeling.

Biting his bottom lip, looked down shamefully. "Arthur, what happened? You look like a mess." Alfred noted, examining his partner closely.

"I…I…" His voice wavered, but even with a shaky voice, he didn't have an answer. He didn't want to answer. The events of the night took a toll on him, and all he wanted was peace. Emotions ambushed him at once, and more tears started to form in his eyes, a painfully choking feeling in his throughout following behind them

"Alfred…I'm sorry." the doctor choked out.

A pair of arms wrapped around the whimpering doctor. A warmth was felt on his chilled skin. The scent of the American seemed to have a comforting feeling on the Briton.

Not another word was exchanged between the two. The sniffles from the Briton and the hushed comfort from the American was the only thing that was happening between them.

Looking down at the fragile Englishman, hurt was fixed on the American's features.

_I don't know what happened to you, Arthur, but I'm going to find out._

* * *

**A/N_-_**Ta Da~! I know, I'm mean to my characters. But I do have my limits too, so you all were pretty lucky that Arthur got out okay. Pretty angsty hm? Well, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, because it's going to be a while before my next one comes out. Review and message me whenever you please ^-^ Thanks for reading~! :3


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